David
Human
Orlesian Lieutenant}}Strength{2} Dexterity{1} Willpower{2} Magic{0} Cunning{1}
"On ne passe pas!"
Posts: 58
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Post by David on Dec 30, 2012 3:06:01 GMT -5
(OOC: In order to take part of this thread, please read THIS first. It will give you critical information on how the Army of Orlais functions, and a better idea of the numbers involved) Northern Orlais, Roughly 10 miles south of the Imperial Highway bridge into Nevarra. In the main keep of a noble's castle north of Val Chevin, the Field Martial of Army Group North had most of the field grade officers (captain and above) assembled before him. Among the number was David, commander of the IV Legion, who was unlike many of the officers in the room. For one, he was a commoner, where the vast majority of the officers present where from noble families. Also, David was apprehensive about the coming battle. The war itself was questionable, but the fact was that as a soldier he had to follow orders. The rebellion had yet to grow in strength to the point where they could openly defy Gespard. They had to buy their time, grow their numbers, procure funding, and spread the word about Celene still being alive. But those thoughts were far from David's mind at this point. Now, his thoughts were only on the battle ahead. The plan was relatively simple. The First army (of which David's legion was assigned to) was to take the main bridge on the old Imperial Highway, and secure a beachhead on the other side of the river for the Second and Fifth armies to march accross after 6,000 Chevaliers broke through the Nevarran lines. Their advance would be supported by the siege legion, who would be bombarding the Nevarran defenders as the First army crossed. At the same time, the Fourth and Sixth armies, supported by the light horse legion and 6,000 more chevaliers, will begin the march at dawn from Montfort, to cross into Nevarra from the north and prevent the Nevarran army from relieving Cumberland. The 3rd army was to remain in Val Chevin, with the final 6,000 Chevaliers, and remain in reserve. After a quick pep talk and reading a letter from Gespard about the importance of their mission, the Field Marshal retired to his quarters as the generals gathered their captains to plan for the battle ahead. As the general explained his plan for taking the bridge, David was appalled. The bridge was supposedly only defended by, at most, 10,000 men, and they outnumbered them three to one. The general's plan was simple, charge the bridge while the siege corps continued to fire on the rear ranks of the Nevarran army, spreading panic. David studied the map, and immediately found a better route. "Monsieur, may I intercede?" He asked. David then proceeded to point out how there was a ford two miles south, in which a small force could flank the Nevarrans as the main group assaulted the bridge. The general, at first, was apprehensive, unsure of what to make of someone actually speaking out against his plan. He was much more accustomed to yes men. However the other captains agreed, and the General agreed to the plan, allowing David to take his legion, and the 2d legion, across the ford as the assault began. David nodded, and with the captain of the second legion (a man he had come to trust), walked out to prepare the men. They had to set up before dawn so that the crossing of the ford would be a surprise. The next day, roughly 30 minutes after dawn, Southeast of the Imperial Highway bridge into Nevarran territory. David looked at the river whilst crouched in the brush of the edge of the forest. Scanning the horizon to his right, he counted his blessings as the sun was on his right. The men attempting to take the bridge directly were at a major disadvantage. They would be crossing with the sun in their eyes, meaning they would not see the arrows until it was almost too late. David pitied them, but there was little he could do. The Field Marshal had orchestrated the grand invasion to begin at dawn, and he, a captain, could not change the old man's mind. At least here, where the river curved, the sun would be on their right, and remain behind them as they came up on the Nevarrans. With luck, the ford would allow them to form up and attack their flank, relieving pressure on the men crossing the bridge. With the battle already underway, David looked for the sign from the General. For almost an hour it did not come, and David began to grow restless. The men on the bridge were getting slaughtered. What the hell was the General waiting for? Finally, he had had enough. It was now or never. Soon, the men on the bridge would be routed, and the maneuver across the ford would be of no consequence. Sounding the horn, David ordered his men, and the men of the legion behind him, forward to cross the ford, and after a short run was the first man in the water, crossing shin-high clear waters with his men as half the archers lined the banks, ready to fire upon any Nevarran that attempted to stop the advance. It was uncomfortable, the ford was a hundred meters long, and the rapid current on the shallow part of the water did not make movement easier in armor. Still, David sloshed his way through, in front with his men, desperately charging across so that they could reform on the other side and aid their brothers on the bridge.
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Fenris
Elf
}}Strength{3} Dexterity{3} Willpower{0} Magic{0} Cunning{2}
Posts: 66
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Post by Fenris on Dec 31, 2012 19:51:27 GMT -5
Fenris, assigned in the 1st company of David's legion, was not struggling with the same problems he imagined other soldiers would. He looked at the legion's banner and it gave him strength; he looked at his fellows-in-arms and felt relieved. But not once did he feel unready for what was to come. He had found himself a pair of fitting ringmail spaulders and boots from the legion's armoury, and from under a pile of cheap-quality blades and axes he had found a guard helmet, complete with a mail coif that would protect his neck and throat. He also carried a shield in the Orlesian fashion, large enough to guard him against arrows and bolts. But the shield would be cumbersome in battle, not to mention his inexperience in its use, so he would toss it away before battle was joined. A simple plan of action: fight your guts out or die.
The horns sounded. The body of men lurched onwards. There was no need for 'formal' walking, now. No matter if someone walked a microsecond out of pace. They would still move, like a combined wave of human flesh, human-made steel and bows, and not anybody could stop them before their commander gave the order. The 1st company was comprised of a hundred men-at-arms, shieldbearers, commanded by Lieutenant de Floris. Technically, Fenris was a man-at-arms. But his true position in the legion was above that of any other man-at-arms or chevalier - or so he believed. He was close to David. The man hadn't invited him to his personal staff nor as his bodyguard, as he had hoped, however. And he didn't know if he would've accepted the offer in any case. He preferred it this way: he could even die. That was quite likely, when he thought about it: his company was the first one to enter the fray. He made a mental note to himself, a cynical musing; he didn't care whether he lived or not, but still cared about the way he was going to die. A battle would be honourable, he thought.
Then the legion suddenly entered a wide, cold river. The water was shin-deep, barely enough to slow a fully grown man down, but taking into account the equipment each of them wore... slowing down was quite likely indeed. Archers covered them as they struggled through the clear, freezing water, wetting their leather padding underneath their ringmail and freezing their thighs to bone. Some grunted roughly, some simply shook their heads; Fenris, on the other hand, was used. The cold Tevinterian winters had more than prepared him for crossing a shin-deep river in Orlais.
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Post by Lyaera Amavaintria on Jan 1, 2013 15:42:50 GMT -5
While assigned to first class legionnaire, Lyaera had at least hoped to be by David's side for the upcoming battle, near wanting to be the one to protect both he and Fenris should anyone attempt anything sneaky. But here she was, within the company behind David's, there to secure the area for the ranks behind them to form. On another note, as she stood there at the front of the various rows and rows of men, she felt--not scared, but anxious, she had never fought in battle before and yet here she was, David must've seen something in her for her to be here right now, fighting for him and his cause. By her side was a young man at least three years younger than her, a human... and one that she considered a friend, during her time in camp he had become her archery partner, each sharing what they knew and to support each other... though at that given moment, Lyaera could see the fear in his eyes. She wouldn't admit it, but she, too, was a little scared.
In an attempt to stop his quivering, she gripped his hand gently and gave it a light squeeze causing him to meet her gaze. Her brows were furrowed, not in a glare, but to hardened her expressing as she gave him a slight nod, her eyes said a million words of comfort and support as if to say I'm am by your side, you can do this. He returned the nod and then she let go, focusing on the matter at hand. All she could see was a sea of armor, banners and swords, she herself had donned a fine armor for the upcoming battle consisting of thick brown leather and silverite materials with decorative Orleasian spaulders, arm guards, and boots - she needed to feel as light as possible as well as protected.
Equipped with her bow, two holsters on her back containing seventy arrows each some of which that had been dipped in poison at the tip, her twin daggers at her hips along with various useful items around her waist attached to the belt such as a vial containing venom and the like. For this day, Lyaera had pushed herself to the limit with endless days of squats and push ups to strengthen herself and improve her body, she wasn't as thin as before now though neither was she increasingly muscular, but the improvement was there - a fine feminine yet athletic build.
She watched as David's company began to move, the situation seemed grim at that moment. She knew one thing though, death would very likely be certain and there would be losses, but she was ready... and she'd be damned if she was going to lose both David and Fenris in this battle.
"Na via lerno victoria, my friends..."
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Gespard de Chalons
Human
Emperor of Orlais}}Strength{3} Dexterity{1} Willpower{1} Magic{0} Cunning{3}
Posts: 67
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Post by Gespard de Chalons on Jan 1, 2013 19:04:47 GMT -5
It was early morning, before the sun had even risen and inside the Emperor`s personal quarter in Val Chevin, stood Gespard proudly with stretched out arms as he allowed his two servants dress on his fine armour. To begin with he had put on a matching pair of black trousers and tunic, then a gambeson which would assist him to withstand the weight. Upon the gambeson, the servants clad him with a chainmail, which was quickly after covered with the royal tabard that reflected the Orlesian colours gold and red, whereas upon the Emperor`s shoulders, arms and feet`s he was clad in plate armour made out of silverite. On his head he wore the crown and around his waist hung the belt, which held the sword inside the scabbard.
Far in advance the invasion of Nevarra had been planned and now that it was finally time to do battle, the Emperor prepared himself for what was to come, wishing to give the men morale support as well perhaps participate if he could. The day before, he had not been present during the meeting between the officers, yet he trusted that they would win him this battle. Certainly Nevarra was a great country and it was not that long ago that the Emperor and his company had been in Cumberland to win the Grand Tourney, but what many did not know, was that Gespard had been there for the sole reason to spy and plot, which would come in handy as the war continued.
The plan was first to gain an upperhand by attacking the Nevarran border, from Val Chevin and Montfort they would launch the assault and together the two forces would bring the enemy to its knee and into a retreat before they later would march on Cumberland itself and the rest of its land, if they managed to take Cumberland than they would get a great chance of winning, even though the Nevarran capitol still remained further north. It was common knowledge that Cumberland, which was a port city, was three times as large as Denerim and its wealth was far beyond measure. If the Orlesians could capture it, then their wealth would increase, but if they managed to capture the entire kingdom, then it would be even better and Orlais could enter a new golden age.
Once Gespard was finished dressed, he took his leave and headed out into the courtyard, where his great white Destrier stood clad in armour as well. In a rush he walked up to the horse, but without help he mounted it and as he sat there, he ordered his squire to bring him his shield that carried his sigil. This would be a fine day, a day of victory, he thought to himself as grabbed the shield and ordered the horse to gallop forward. With great speed he went, and behind him followed the royal guards, which in this moment consisted of thirty men.
Through the city he and his company galloped, and everyone who saw the Emperor knew that something great was about to happen. When they finally reached their destination a few miles north, they halted and from a top of a small hill, Gespard looked across the scenery where the battle would be fought. With great cheer and joy the men cried out for the arrival of the Emperor, and his sight was easy spotted as they came in their finest, carrying banners that flickered in the wind. From what Gespard could see, he noticed that the bridge would not be easy captured, as on the other side stood the Nevarran army, but luckily the Orlesians seemed to have a plan.
The battle had already begun without him, and from where he stood he saw the army charge across the bridge. Although it quickly turned into a slaughter, when the men did not see the arrows of the enemy because of the sun, and the more they tried this method the more unnecessary lives were killed. Gespard had expected better from his generals, why were they not doing anything? He wondered in frustration, but took the opportunity to ride behind the lines so that he could get a word with those responsible. Once he reached them, he spoke out loud in anger. “Do you not see the men are being slaughtered? What are you doing?” Then suddenly a horn was sounded and by what Gespard understood an attack had begun on the enemy`s flank.
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David
Human
Orlesian Lieutenant}}Strength{2} Dexterity{1} Willpower{2} Magic{0} Cunning{1}
"On ne passe pas!"
Posts: 58
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Post by David on Jan 2, 2013 2:32:04 GMT -5
Crossing the ford was the easy part. The Nevarrans, thankfully, had yet to fully understand what was happening on their flanks as the bombardment from the siege legion began to intensify, hoping to relieve pressure from the men on the bridge. It appeared to be working, as the men were slowly gaining ground there, but fresh Nevarran troops were being poured into any small advance they made on the bridge. David grimaced as he stepped foot on the other side, fully understanding that it would not take long for their advantage of surprise to be lost. He needed to secure a foothold so that the rest of the legion, and the 2d legion, could make it across.
"Archers!" he called out. "Four companies! Form a perimeter and deploy spikes! I want no surprises as the men are formed!"
As the archery companies ran up, he spotted Lyaera and gave her a nod, then turned back to the men still crossing the ford and began to form them into battle line. He grabbed the company commander of Fenris' company, and ordered him to form his company for battle. David had instructed his men well. The front two lines would be formed of Men at arms companies, followed by Halberd companies to stab over their heads. The last line would be pike companies, usually on the flanks to prevent cavalry charges, though David had heard no reports of Nevarran cavalry. Quickly, the lines formed as David directed the companies personally from the river bank, ensuring everyone formed up to form a strong line. As the 2d legion finally began to stream across, a horn was sounded and David turned to look up the hill towards the bridge. To his horror, he saw a large line of Nevarran heavy cavalry, at least 2,000 strong, being formed in front of what appeared to be several thousand Nevarran infantry, readying to charge the still forming ranks. David instructed the other legion commander to get his pikemen up to the front, and as they ran up to meet David's he ordered the commander to get his men ready to reinforce any breaks in his own line, as he ran up to the front of the line.
As the Nevarrans began to march down the hill, David ordered his archers to fire three volleys, then to retreat behind the lines and continue to fire into the Nevarran rear and sow disorder. As the Nevarrans marched, the archers fired their first volley. The Nevarran cavalry then began to step up the pace, moving into a trot. Second volley went off. David ordered all pikemen to the front, and those on the flanks to circle around to protect the men at arms from flank attacks. Third volley. The Nevarran cavalry is now at a full charge. "GET BACK!" David called out, as the archers broke rank and ran through the lines of pikeman, away from the charging Nevarran riders. Their hooves thundering and armor clanking, they were almost upon the legion when the stakes that the archers had deployed did their magic and impaled a good portion of the first line of riders. Horses screamed in horror and men flew from their mounts, but the charge continued into the Orlesian line, right into the waiting pikemen. The crash was tremendous, with pikes snapping, men shouting, the sounds of steel ripping through flesh and armor, both of horse and men, filled the air. Yet valiantly, the Nevarrans pushed into the Orlesian lines, the Orlesian soldiers fighting their damndest to hold them.
Then came a loud, collective roar from the Nevarran infantry, charging forward to aid their mounted breathern. Pikemen were of no use against men at arm, and David called his men at arms forward to reinforce the line as a Nevarran horseman came charging at him. Thinking quickly, David picked up a fallen lance and plunged it into the breastplate of the rider, knocking the man off his horse. As the man fell to the ground dead, David grabbed the horses reigns and mounted it to gain a better view of the battlefield. What he saw shocked him.
In front of him, the Nevarrans numbered at least 3 times greater than his own. !8,000 infantry, and that was just the numbers facing him. He called out to the legion behind his to form quickly on the right flank and relieve some of the pressure on the ford crossing, and then looked for a messenger. Someone, anyone. He noticed, amongst the archers in the back, a large amount of bright red hair. Lyaera!
Galloping towards her, he dismounted the horse and grabbed the reins, preventing it from bucking. "Lyaera! I need you. Here, take this horse." He said, shoving the reins into her hands. "Ride to the Second army headquarters and tell General Lamar we have urgent need of his men on the ford. We need to relieve pressure on the bridge, and we're heavily outnumbered. Ride quickly Lyaera... If you don't get there and back with the reinforcements in time we will be overrun. We need you." He patted her on the cheek as he reiterated the urgency of her message, waiting for her confirmation that she would do as he asked before he would run off to join the men, who desperately needed his leadership. The Orlesians, David's men, were holding by what seemed to be strength from the Maker himself, as Nevarran reavers charged into the ranks of shield and pike.
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Fenris
Elf
}}Strength{3} Dexterity{3} Willpower{0} Magic{0} Cunning{2}
Posts: 66
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Post by Fenris on Jan 2, 2013 6:03:20 GMT -5
They had barely even had time to cross the river before they already heard the horns, like loud, guttural echoes, greeting them from yonder. And it did not take the Nevarrans more than a few more minutes to show up, a massive line of horse and man mounted atop the crest of a large hill. When Fenris saw the Nevarran heavy cavalry forming up before his company, he could feel the pressure for the first time. They were not supposed to be spotted so early. Orders were shouted, horns, bells, drums sounded, and soon the two companies of men-at-arms began to retreat behind the advancing horde of pikemen and halberdiers. Their archers had quickly ran up to their position and released their volleys; Fenris thought he had seen a glimpse of bright-red hair among the grey iron helmets most archers sported, but now there was no sight of Lyaera. And, looking at his shield, probably no need of a shield either. He let it fall onto the ground and placed his left hand on the long hilt of his silverite blade, longer than the regular Orlesian broadsword but not as long as the Chevalier longsword. Well, it was still better than either of those designs.
Horns were sounded from the Nevarran-occupied hillside. The line of cavalry began to advance at a trot. It soon quickened into a full gallop. Their heavy hooves trampled the earth mercilessly, its sound much resembling the sound a giant would make - if one such creature would trouble itself with the wars of mortals. In any case, Fenris was now thankful that he had the pikemen and the halberdiers protecting him from the initial assault. He was not at all keen of the prospect of being trampled, kicked and bludgeoned to ground by a pair of heavy horseshoes, while possibly being also nailed in the belly by a couched lance. No, he much preferred his supporting position right now. Fenris could see that the men around him already had their 'war-masks' on, as though they wanted to imitate a burning urge to slaughter and gut the person standing in front of them.
Before he had finished his thoughts, however, there came a massive crash as the cavalry crashed into the lines of pikemen and halberdiers. Horses fell, taking many pikemen with them, and yet even more were felled by the lances and swords of the Nevarran heavy cavalry: but the ratio was against them. Just as the halberdiers moved in to start their butcherwork, the pikemen were suddenly charged from front and flanks by a massive body of Nevarran infantry. A slow retreat began. Fenris heard David shouting an order from close-by, but could not see where he was. His unit moved in to engage, and even when he finally saw David, a pair of infantrymen broke through a gap in the line. Five orlesians charged in, pushing the Nevarrans back like helpless puppies. And that was when he finally saw David: mounted on a large black, he was trying to weave his way through the mass of his own men.
"Make way for the commander! Make way, you imbeciles!" Fenris shouted at the legionaries. They took a glance at David, obviously only recognizing him now, and opened a path for their commander to gallop through. That was the last Fenris saw of him: galloping away towards the archers, sword in hand.
It didn't take long for the Nevarran infantry to break through. Fenris had his hands full: at the left flank of his unit, he was crossing blades with two Nevarran shieldbearers. He positioned himself so that the two shieldbearers would be as if in queue, and then made his move. Moving as though he would be going for the man's head, he moved his sword accordingly. But just as his opponent moved his shield to block the incoming blow, Fenris suddenly changed the sword's direction. Down it swept at the exposed thigh of the shieldbearer, having its first taste of blood for today. The Nevarran fell to one knee, thrashing with his sword. The other Nevarran moved in swiftly, shield at the front, trying to push Fenris away from his comrade, but then backed away in surprise. The glow of his lyrium-infested veins surrounded him, and while Fenris knew exactly what it was, the others couldn't have the slightest of ideas. But the Nevarran was brave. He seemed to steel himself, and then took a step forward, obviously preparing himself for some magical attack. Fenris moved closer, as if he was going to strike from the right, but suddenly his left arm extended towards the man's chest. It went through the shield as though it was only air, even penetrating the Nevarran's breastplate and flesh. And moments later, before the man had realized what was going on, he felt something being crushed in his chest. His comrade, who had seen it all, fell spread-eagle onto the ground. Fenris finished him off mercifully.
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Post by Lyaera Amavaintria on Jan 2, 2013 15:54:38 GMT -5
And so it began...Immediately Lyaera got into position, her feet sliding across the dirt as she came to a halt, she took a sharp intake of breath and held it as she steadied her aim before firing, her arrow piercing through the gap in an enemy soldiers helmet and landing directly into his eye. She made sure to keep her distance and to avoid enemy fire at all costs, though was occasionally scraped by incoming arrows that left a small cut on her cheek along with a few on her arms. Her expression remained like stone, even as her fellow archers fell, she breathed deeply before then hardening her expression - one with a need for revenge, she would avenge them one way or another in full payment!
Lyaera pressed onward, almost like a stone golem, letting nothing put her off balance as she pulled her right arm back and fired again, the multiple arrows including her own now dived down from the air like a swarm of angry crows as they each landed on either horse and man. Before she could fire again, her elven ear twitched at the sound of hooves trampling against the ground, she turned to see David approaching, a look of concern painted her face as her first thought was they he might've been injured, though once he got off the horse her thoughts were calm as she saw no injury on him.
Her wide eyes enlarged as he presented her with a task which caused her heart to sink into her stomach in anxiety and anticipation. She knew she couldn't refuse as much as she didn't want to be relied on for such a heavy task, Lyaera couldn't let him down and on the plus side, horses were quite easy to tame. "You have my word," she said with a nod then brought her hand to his and held it tightly for a moment in a friendly manner "just stay alive! Both you and Fenris, make sure he stays out of trouble."
She said that last part with a forming smirk before mounting the horse and kicked her heels into his sides to get it going. Gripping the reins tightly, Lyaera kicked and kicked for the horse to go faster, even going as far as talking encouragingly, she didn't want to cause the animal pain or discomfort, but this was important. The horse galloped passed her fellow archers and soldiers, only slightly capturing a glance at her ally from before, she could even feel her heart increasing in rate as she neared closer and closer. By the time she reached her destination, she pulled back on the reins to keep the horse from bucking in panic.
"The time is now! We're heavily outnumbered, there's no time for needless talk! Assemble your men now! On me!" she shouted at the General and his men before readying the horse for return, once the had assembled and without a moments hesitation they began to move, Lyaera on the other hand went off onward though made sure not to stray too far from them. Noting that she had not that many arrows left, she decided to preserve them and remove her daggers from their sheathes, though unfortunately for her she was unable to avoid an oncoming arrow that stabbed into the horses side which then caused it buck and send her off and onto the ground. Her eyes widened as she rolled out of the way before its hooves hit her body and off it went in an attempt to remove the arrow by kicking and bucking - there wasn't much she could do for it now.
The General and his men appeared to be struggling towards their destination and yet they continued on. Suddenly, a man with a sword came running up to her and brought down his sword, but all the power he had put into that single swing made him slow, giving her the advantage as she held him back with her blades. He was strong, having no choice but to take out a bottle a smash it on the ground which then caused a rather dizzying aroma to form around them, within second Lyaera kept her nose covered from the smell and as the enemy's eyes burned and his body swayed, she brought her blades across and his head soon fell. Lyaera looked back once more, then ahead at the ongoing battle.
She could only hope they'd make it in time.
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David
Human
Orlesian Lieutenant}}Strength{2} Dexterity{1} Willpower{2} Magic{0} Cunning{1}
"On ne passe pas!"
Posts: 58
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Post by David on Jan 14, 2013 14:14:39 GMT -5
Watching Lyaera ride off, David looked to the west and saw dark clouds looming over the horizon and cursed his bad luck. Those clouds would inevitably bring rain, and rain would make the banks of the river slippery. Also, if it rained for a long enough period of time the waters of the ford would rise, making it more difficult to move men and material across. Great, just bloody fucking great...
But it was not the time to worry about that. No, it was the time to make sure as many of his boys as possible came out alive, and he was certain the nevarrans weren't going to make it easy on him. Walking back towards the line, he grabbed one of the officers and shouted orders for him to reinforce the gap between the two legions. The line must remain one, no matter what the cost. If they were separated, they were dead. David watched to make sure the regiment he ordered moved to where he needed them, and they too joined the fray.
Slowly and steadily, the Nevarrans were pushing back the orlesians, but David's men were doing him proud. It was brutal, bloody business, with the reavers hacking and slashing their way through the orlesians, with halberds falling onto their heads once they got too far in. David was doing his best, but it was hectic commanding with only a ground-eye view of everything. Each moment seemed to last as though it were an hour, time at a standstill, each man-to-man struggle an epic battle lost to space and time. So heavy was the fighting that David barely noticed the light drizzle of rain beginning to come down as he ran forward to personally rally the men breaking in the center of the line.
"With me lads! With me! On ne passe pas!" They were not going to get passed him to strike at the rear of the bridge, not if he could help it. One after another, the nevarrans charged the shield wall David had joined, and time and again they repelled them, using their shields to push them back and stabbing them with the little space gained. However with each charge the orlesians were pushed a little closer to the river. Slowly but surely, they were reaching the bank, where the rain had mad the sand and dirt turn to slippery mud, made worse by the heavy armor many of the men were wearing.
In the back, David could hear men falling into the river, struggling desperately to swim as the ever increasing current began to drag them under the water. Dammit, where the hell was General Lamar?!?
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Fenris
Elf
}}Strength{3} Dexterity{3} Willpower{0} Magic{0} Cunning{2}
Posts: 66
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Post by Fenris on Jan 22, 2013 13:54:11 GMT -5
He had been cut several times by now. Without his shield, he had been extrordinarily useless in the bloody melee that ensued, going as far as rendering him unable to use any half-a-hander techniques with his bastard sword. That had been enough to drive him away from the general direction of the battle, to seek for some high officer to join up with. If they were winning somewhere, it must've been where the officers stood their ground; he was tired of getting cut, tired of lengthy melees and tired of losing, always losing, no matter how many you left dying at your feet. Truth be told, he had not killed more than seven. They were too good. Some near as good as he himself. Some, he thought, were slightly better. That thought chilled him. But his comrades had been there as well, and without them, it could've been the end of him at the sword-point of one of those filthy good Nevarrans. Instead, he had several cuts. They burned horribly, and blood and guts had spread all over his armour, his sword completely covered in them. He knew he would not like his first real battle, but this... this was exaggerated. It was too much. But there it was. Fenris craned his head to see above the masses of men, tried to listen to any commands, but the brutal cacophony of steel clashing against steel, the agonized and enraged bellows of the soldiers, drowned them under their sheer force. When he finally felt the touch of fortune.
Limping as fast as he could, Fenris made his way towards the dark, bloody strands of hair, the rough features, the steady and confident voice of his temporary commander, all the way trying to avoid corpses and dying soldiers. Blood and intestines were everywhere; they could not be avoided. But it made him sick to look at them, or the people who had lost them. So he avoided it.
Soon after, as he reached the line, he had half a mind to have a few words with David. But no sooner than he had reached him, another wave of Nevarrans had organized close to them. Close to a hundred, they began to taunt the shieldwall David had formed with his remaining infantry in the center. Grunting, he took his place, making sure that there was a convenient pair of men-at-arms to guard his front. He'd take the flanks.
Then they came. The two men-at-arms, outnumbered three-to-one, fell quickly to Nevarran steel, but five more ran to take their place. Fenris had wheeled around to the Nevarran flank, but he could not find an avenue to get close. Instead he turned and slashed at a Nevarran man-at-arms who'd thought to take him unawares. The blow got caught into the man's gorget, but then Fenris slid it out with a quick motion. Blood ran out through the bloody gash the silverite had cut in the metal gorget. And then they were all on him. He tried to turn and run, several times, but each time there was an incoming blow he could not dodge. There were four at him, then. And he was already exhausted.
He would've shouted for help then, begged for mercy, but for the cruel smile on one of the Nevarran's lips. He was an elf of short measure, but he fought like the devil himself. Yes, he would've begged for mercy. And he was almost about to, until a quarrel took one of the Nevarranson the side of his head. It penetrated through helmet and skull, sending him somersaulting backwards like some twisted tumbler. Fenris had no time to wonder, though. He moved his blade to intercept an incoming blow, changed targets, and went for a stab at another Nevarran's throat. He had no gorget on. But the fellow was prepared, and he moved a shield to intercept his attack. Then the devil was on him again, raining blows on him. When he brought his blade back up to deliver a mighty blow, Fenris felt his foot slip on the bloody ground. He fell on one knee. Somehow, he did not know how, he managed to move his blade up just in time to save his head.
The other Nevarrans had been killed or carried elsewhere by the current of the battle, it seemed, but now Fenris fought his way back on his feet with a fierce counterattack. The devil blocked them all without the slightest appearance of being troubled, returning the blow with an uppercut of his own, still smiling cruelly. Fenris blocked it, but the sword still continued its way. It forced its way through the tired silverite of his sword, as if it was only some cheap steel from a peasant's forge, and the devil's blade white steel. Fenris watched in horror as the devil's sword finally snapped his own in two and sliced a hole in his breastplate. Blood gushed out from the wound; he would die, die, and horribly.
"Bloody devil," he said, trying to get back on his feet, failing, and then resorting to lean on the stump of his sword instead. Then he exhaled sharply. He wasn't complete out of weapons. When the devil leaned closer to finish his job, Fenris did his best to activate his lyrium-infused strength. Blue sparkles began to dance across his skin, and enstrengthened by its sight, he stood up. It was invigorating, almost addicting. It was what he had missed throughout the whole battle. Why hadn't he used it before? But then the white steel of the devil flashed again. Fenris caught its blade in the notched stump of his sword, but it fell away from his numb hands; his strength was beginning to fail him, he realized, but I have the power... ... and then he stopped thinking. He screamed, lunged himself at the devil and threw out his both hands. He crashed against a shield, fell on his knees, dazed, but felt his hands hit something hard. The blue glow around him died. But the devil fell backwards, as well; he screamed and kicked, crying out in pain as bloody muss began to sprinkle down from an empty eye socket.
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Post by Lyaera Amavaintria on Jan 22, 2013 14:54:04 GMT -5
Lyaera could see the clouds overhead growing dark, a grim looked appeared on her hardened features as she soon realised that she had to hurry. She was amongst General Lamar and his men now, the army charging forth as they neared closer and closer until they collided with the opposing side. Twirling her blades, Lyaera let out a cry to intimidate the enemy as she lunged forward, stabbing her blades into a soldier's shoulders. Pulling her twin daggers out of the dying man's body, she turned her attention to a fast approaching soldier, his skill similar to her own.
"Shit!" she cursed under her breath as she lept back, his blades flailing wildy at her, it was then she felt a sharp swift quick to her gut thus rendering her winded as she doubled over in pain, panicking due to the short loss of breath. Luckily, when she looked up at the fellow rogue, she could see someone nearing towards her from behind due to the reflection in his helmet, thus causing her to roll out of the way as his comrade accidentally plunged his axe into his skull, granting Lyaera the opportunity to strike as he stood there in shock at his friend's head being split in two. Approaching from behind, she grabbed his head and mercilessly snapped it, watching him fall on top of his dead comrade.
Her lightly tanned skin was splattered with blood along with her blades dripping of the stuff as she soon pressed forward, allowing her men-in-arms to fight as she swiftly ran past various dying and victorious soldiers, searching for her friends in hopes to aid them. Although she had bonded with many of David's fine men, both he and Fenris were her main priorities, she wouldn't let them fall in battle even if it killed her.
The resolve was clear in her eyes, her breathing became shallow but quick, though before she could so much as make out the white hair a few meters away from her, she felt herself being knocked to the ground. An enemy had ridden his horse into her, she held her shoulder as she cried in pain, knowing that that something had been knocked out of place due to the force.
Dismounting his horse, the man loomed over her with his sword held high and ready to strike, before her life could flash before her eyes, she snapped out of the fear of being struck down here and now, soon granting a swift kick to his ankle, thus causing him to fall. A blood curdling scream escaped him as soon as he felt a burning sensation overwhelm his face as Lyaera had thrown an acid flask at him, the glass getting caught in his eyes thus making it evermore painful.
Still holding her shoulder, she looked about the chaos, hoping to detect that white spot again. Creators knows where David was, she couldn't see him so far, though maybe it was because elves stood out more than humans. "F-..." she began but grunted, forcefully pushing against her shoulder to click it back into place, crying out in frustration as she did so. "Fenris!" she shouted to him, avoiding the body of a fallen man at her feet as she joined his side, she knew this was not her place but the archers would be fine without her, she couldn't let her friends die.
Her attention was soon caught by a light blue glow, her eyes widening with both horror and fascination at this new discovery, she knew now was not the time but she couldn't help it, she was shocked and thus stared with those big eyes of hers, only snapping out of it when she felt something smack against her head. She felt dizzy for a short period of time as she felt behind her head, it was wet and sticky, clearly indicating that she was bleeding. But before any further damage could be made, she whirled around, her dagger leaving a straight-cut line on the enemy's throat, cutting his jugular and thus blood sprayed from the wound.
She could feel her heart racing, her chest rise and fell as the adrenaline course through her entire body. It was then she found a new strength inside her, one born from her determination and her friends. Confidently, she joined the tattoed elf's side, briefly patting his shoulder to alert him that she wasn't going anywhere. "Only the living know victory..." she said with a small smirk forming as she offered her hand to him to help him up.
It was then she felt something drip onto her cheek, but it wasn't blood...
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corineshalen
Elf
}}Strength{1} Dexterity{3} Willpower{1} Magic{0} Cunning{3}
Beyond your reach
Posts: 74
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Post by corineshalen on Jan 22, 2013 16:47:38 GMT -5
"Mamae, where are you going?
"Ah...Gespard forgot his...left shoe, when he went off on his horse with the army. Don`t worry, ill be back soon!"
"Heeeh...Silly emperor! Hurry back, Mamae!"
The big grin of his and the blissfully unaware eyes...damn it all. Biting her lip, she tilted her head to the side, looking past the horse´s head, onto the road ahead. Had he followed his battle plan, he would be behind the army itself, waiting with some generals...tsk, he haden`t asked her to stay back or come with him, yet he had let her be present during some of the strategy meetings.
Either the Emperor of Orlais had managed to affect her mind, or she had finally snapped due to the Orlesian accents and humors ways to dress...cause she had no idea of why she was here. Battle had been apart of her life since the first steps, but she was far from a soldier, yet alone one who was capable of wearing heavy chain mail into battle. And even if the armor problem was solved, what would her motivation be to ride into battle, when her sole purpose of living was to protect her family?
Blaming it on insanity, she silently bit her lip as she reached the back rows of the Orlesian army. In the distant, the strong scent of blood and battle filled the air, the Orlesian war cries throbbing in her short ears. Around her, everyone was clad in the armor of the Orlesian army, with a few in leather armor here and there (probably scouts). Corine herself had clad in her beloved drake-skin armor, which had been polished to its full shine. Over it, she wore a sky-blue cape with the Orlesian flag on the back, as well as short bow from the Armory.
It was easy to spot Gespard, his mighty white steed standing out from the surrounding horses. Pulling the reins of her own for a moment, the mother elf observed as the Emperor. His patience and gentle touches suddenly felt very distant, as he yelled out loud, the power behind the angry yell somehow sounding above the sounds of the war. It was..amazing to say the least; From the man who`s embrace made them both feel comfort and warmth, to this...Orlesian dragon, who`s voice could shake mountains if he wished it so...
"Your grace!", trying to keep the worry in her voice to a minimum, she passed through the crowd of awaiting generals and shoulders, guiding her horse up on the side of his. "I...", reaching out, she placed her hand on the side of his armored arm, fingers shaking a little. Why was she here? It was insanity...right?. It wasen`t like there was anything but pleasure in their relationship...through she found herself missing not his touch, but just his company, each time she departed after serving the evening tea..
"...I am sorry for speaking up like this, please forgive me. It is...not my place". Sky-blue eyes met with his, unspoken words lingering on the moist lips of the elf. Ignoring the army around them,she slipped her fingers unto his cheek, the exposed parts of her soft digits running across his cheek. "But...allow me to be by your side"".
The clouds above them had grown dark, and the first droplets began to drip down. They fell into the soft folds of her hair, a few slipping between to run down her face.
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Gespard de Chalons
Human
Emperor of Orlais}}Strength{3} Dexterity{1} Willpower{1} Magic{0} Cunning{3}
Posts: 67
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Post by Gespard de Chalons on Jan 22, 2013 22:33:53 GMT -5
The Orlesians on the bridge was clearly having trouble fighting the Nevarran`s, and it made Gespard frustrated that his generals had not taken any precaution that the morning sun would be against them. With a raised voice Gespard tried to get answers out of them, but when he heard that the General had listened to David`s strategy, he began to feel ill. Was this Champion really going to order his superiors around now? Surely his idea sounded good and well-intended, but that meant the victory now relied entirely on him and his forces. Could the general not have chosen any better man to lead, or at least asked the Emperor of Orlais first!? Gespard grew angry and displeased, although it did not get better when another sound appeared in front of them.
On the other side of the river, the Nevarrans just got their reinforcement and they brought cavalry with them, which made Gespard desperately reconsider the situation. As his eyes scanned the scenery, he could see the bombardment from the siege engines still happening, but when his gaze turned toward the sky, he spotted dark clouds approaching in the horizon. It was about to rain, which was bad news for those crossing the river, although good news for those on the bridge as it would soon block the sun.
However while Gespard thought on what to do, he noticed the Nevarran cavalry turned their attention elsewhere, and from what he could see they charged toward David`s forces. Behind a hill they disappeared and without knowing how it went, they could only wait for what happened next. Minutes went by and as the numbers of dead increased on both sides; Gespard got sight of one mounted elf who rode in haste from David`s position, which made it clear to him that they had serious problems.
With a tight grip on the reins of the horse, Gespard were just about to suggest something when he suddenly got interrupted by a familiar person. At his side now stood his page Corine, who was not supposed to be there at all, but who apparently had chosen to join him. Then it came to him, he had forgotten to tell her to remain safe in the city, as he had been too busy with other things. The generals looked shocked at the she-elf who showed up and spoke to the Emperor without being allowed, but Gespard himself who was simply surprised were not mad or angered to see her, in fact his frustration faded away as he saw her and as she touched his cheek, he felt good.
For a moment he forgot the battle and as his gaze remained on Corine, he smiled, though as the rain began to fall he came back to the senses. With a nod in response, Gespard glanced at his generals and said. “Excuse us for a moment.” Then his focus turned back at the she-elf, hinting for her to come along as he began to straddle away from the army.
“What are you doing? It is not safe here…” He asked concerned with a low voice, stopping a good distance away from the Orlesian lines with Corine. Wondering why she had come when she knew there was a battle going on. What would her son and family think if they knew she had accompanied him to war, and what would his men think if they saw him caress an elf whose job was to be his page. It was not how he wanted it to be, but none the less here she was and he needed to deal with it, one way or another.
Amazed by her sight, he felt strongly attracted by her presence and as he approached her side upon horseback, he glanced at her with care, not wishing to harm her, though rather wanting her to be within safety. With a short look back at the army, Gespard tried to observe if anyone was watching them, and luckily none seemed too care.
(Btw this happens before lya shows up with reinforcement, I`ll include that stuff in my next post due to the time frame)
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David
Human
Orlesian Lieutenant}}Strength{2} Dexterity{1} Willpower{2} Magic{0} Cunning{1}
"On ne passe pas!"
Posts: 58
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Post by David on Feb 4, 2013 23:49:38 GMT -5
We can't hold much longer David thought he watched the battle. They needed to withdraw... Get across the river. But how? They were already a disorganized mess, but things needed to be accomplished quickly, or they would lose both damn legion. Sheathing his blade and putting his shield on his back, he ran looking for the Second Legion commander, a difficult task as the army was pushed further and further towards the river. Weaving through his troops, he found the man, with his legion a bit ahead of his own. Good, they still had some room to hold them off... Which was more than he could say for his own troops. The Nevarrans had hit them hardest as they had been closest to the ford, and now they were paying for it.
After giving some orders to the other commander, mainly to drive hard into the Nevarran Center in the hopes that it'd relieve David's own southern flank, and then ran back through the crowd. The formation was holding but... Barely. If help did not arrive soon... Then the bravery and superior arms of his troops would mean nothing. They'd be all at the bottom of the river.
David noticed, in one of his units, a glowing man suddenly carved a bloody swath into the Nevarran line, and instantly recognized the man as Fenris, who was now deep into the enemy formation. David, not wanting to lose him and seeing how the morale of the men sharply improved, trotted up behind his men and shouted. "Push forward boys! Follow me!"
Reaching the front, he formed up with the shield wall, with the halberds over his shoulder, and pushed into the Nevarrans. Steel clashed, pikes and poles snapped, flesh was cut and limbs hacked, their former owners screaming in pain as they fell to the ground. Slowly, steadily, the Orlesians gained some ground, catching up to Fenris, but only just. Soon, they were being pushed back again, their strength nearly exhausted. As their backs once more approaced the river, David lamented that it would end like this... In the service of the tyrant....
But suddenly a horn was sounded. He looked back, and saw an entire army, 30,000 men, arrive. A hale of arrows flew over their heads, and began to strike into the Nevarrans several ranks ahead of them, sowing confusion in their ranks. A great cry erupted throughout the line, as the men held, waiting for their allies to cross the ford.
David turned back and waded into the water, spotting Lyaera and nodding, then turning to General Lamar and pointing. "Sir, their left flank is weaker as they focused so heavily on trying to reach the ford. Give me one of your legion, and we'll give you the room to maneuver around them and take that damned hill!" Lamar agreed, and one of his aids raised a banner. Soon, one of the legions marched into the ford, and reinforced David's flagging men. The fresh blood was enough to unsettle the Nevarrans, who were steadily pushed back until finally Lamar saw there was enough room to move his men through safely.
David, after the majority of the army had been marshalled on the other side of the river (they formed fairly quickly, and were ready to make the assault up and free up the men on the bridge), he told the General he would be charging with his men, and trotted up to his newly reformed line. It was smaller than it had started, but they were still itching to win this battle. The mood had changed, there was hope of victory.
Marching at the very front of the line, David, with his shield raised deflecting arrows, saw the Nevarrans trying to reform after reeling from the arrival of the entire 2nd army. Thinking quickly, David ordered his men to charge, running forward, with the others quickly getting the message and charging with him. Clashing with the nevarrans, they continued the butcher's work, but with one key difference. It was the Nevarrans being pushed back.
Victory was in sight.
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Fenris
Elf
}}Strength{3} Dexterity{3} Willpower{0} Magic{0} Cunning{2}
Posts: 66
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Post by Fenris on Feb 6, 2013 8:30:00 GMT -5
The next time Fenris opened his eyes, he found himself being pulled up by his former charge. His sword was broken, however, and his armour ruined; he retched on the ground and tried to call out for help. But when he tried to raise his voice, a great pain struck his chest. Fenris fell limp, his life's blood dripping downwards in a slow stream, and he came to a sudden realization. Nothing could save him from his imminent death. Nothing, save for magic.
Am I true, or am I vain? Do I want help from a mage, or do I want to die cursing them with my last breath?
In the end, the decision came easily enough. He wanted healing magic, if any capable of the spells could be found. If he'll accept. But he had to try.
"I need a healer, Lyaera," he said in a low, agonized growl. He feared the moment when his bowels would fall out. Would it kill him, or leave him alive to endure the pain? He felt a strong pull in his stomach, not the first of its kind, and screamed. If he had wanted to speak now, he coudn't have produced a single sound. If they've no mages, I'll be patched up. I'm going to end up like Jack, a cripple. Or dead. Dead's much more likely.
His stomach pulled another time, stronger than before. He fainted again.
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Post by Lyaera Amavaintria on Feb 6, 2013 12:06:44 GMT -5
A sudden look of concern plastered the Elven woman's face and muttered a curse under her breath. She had to get him out of here! Looking around, she tried to find a path through the bodies that didn't mean having to face any soldiers... but there was none. "Shit!" she hissed, running a bloodied hand through her hair. It was then an idea struck her, it was a long shot but it could work!
With slight effort due to her own injuries, she managed to lift the male Elf and place him on her back, leaning forward so he would not fall. "Great..." she sighed with a slight grunt before pressing forward, attempting to keep a low profile in case the enemy saw them and targeted them due to their vulnerable state. Now she had to work fast!
Letting out a short yet shrill whistle, it caught the attention of one of their horses - having helped train them as well as tend to them, she was recognized and soon the horse galloped towards the two elves. Quickly, she grabbed the reigns and threw Fenris over the saddle before mounting the horse herself, positioning him so he was in front of her with her arms around his waist while gripping the reigns, keeping him safe from falling off. With one swift kick, the horse was soon on the move.
Through the sea of soldiers, Lyaera could feel her legs getting cut up due to the various swinging of blades and the firing of arrows, trying so hard not to scream out in pain.
After this I think I'm going to need a little patching up myself... Damn it, Fenris...
It wasn't that she blamed him, it was more concern than anything, even a tinge of failure dipped into her heart, feeling as if she was unable to do anything for her friends. But no, she couldn't think like that, she had now to help him. Whether he could hear her or not, she needed for him to know there was hope in him surviving this. "Listen to me, Fen, I'm going to get you to the healing ward, just hang in there, alright?" she spoke softly yet directly in his left ear as her chin rested upon his shoulder as she needed to see where she was going.
The ward was a small ways away, positioned in secret so that the wounded could be brought there for healing, but Lyaera needed them now! While galloping through the various hordes, she quickly pulled back on the reigns to prevent the horse from bucking. "Jean-Paul," she shouted, noticing one of her fellow archers who then turned his attention on her while his rank continued their attack from a distance, Lyaera sure to speak quickly "Fenris is injured, he may not have much time, if you see David, please tell him I'm taking him to the ward for healing. May the Maker guide you!"
He gave his word before watching her depart, thus giving him a need greater to survive this battle.
Tightening her grip around the elf, but not tight enough to cause any further discomfort or damage, she spoke to him once again. "We're almost there, Fenris, just stay with me, alright? We'll get through this! You're going to be fine!" she kicked swifter and harder, the horse neighed while increasing his pace while Lyaera attempted to calm herself, she didn't want to lose those most closest to her this day, she just couldn't!
It wasn't long until she felt something sharp stab into her back, her eyes widened as she hissed in pain, not wanting to burst the white hair elf's ear drums as an enemy arrow pierced her shoulder, causing her to fall off the horse while it still carried Fenris. Ripping the arrow out, she clutched her shoulder while her eyes attempted to search for any trace of the enemy.
Instantly struggling to her feet, she saw the five horsemen approaching. Damn it, she though, I knew there'd bound to be someone notice us...
She was already weakened and they were nearing. Without a moments hesitation, she reached for her bow and steadied her aim before firing at one horseman, piercing his chest. Another almost knocked into her had she not rolled out the way, bent on one knee she readied her next arrow and fired again, piercing into his back. It was now time to focus on the remaining three.
The trio circled around her like a predator to its prey, almost like a pack of hungry wolves. Luckily, they were warrior class, outmaneuvering them wouldn't be a problem, but should she get hit then she'd be in great trouble. An overly cocky one charged at her, but with a simple turn of the shoulder, his sword missed thus giving her the advantage to stab him in the back before kicking him down onto the ground. He wasn't dead yet, but still in pain.
The other two worked together, coming at her from both sides. By leaning back she managed to dodge one's attack whereas she was near impaled by the other, his blade slicing through her hip. Choking up blood, the elf woman quickly rolled forward before smashing a miasmic glass on the ground. Simultaneously, she threw her blades at the two, landing directly into their skulls.
Her attention soon turned to the horse which held Fenris, rather beaten and bloody, she limped over to him, blood dripping from her mouth. She noticed his body lean to the side, but caught him before he hit the ground, stumbling back herself. The rain seemed intent on making her goal more harder than it was, but she managed to pull through, her legs were slightly muddy but she soon discarded it.
The horse dared not go any further, so Lyaera had no choice but to smack it hide for it to gallop away, once again carrying him on her back, groaning at the discomfort it gave her before pressing on up the rocky hill which lead to the forest-like area. A few times she struggled, almost falling back or dropping the elf, but managed to make it in the end. Nearing the camp, a mage caught her attention, standing guard outside the ward, he jumped slightly upon seeing her but once he saw Fenris on her back, he rushed over along with another who then helped carry the elf off her back.
Lyaera fell to one knee in exhaustion, the first Mage immediately held her up. "Please, he needs healing, don't let him die..." she struggled to speak, though those last words were hinted with sadness.The two Mages complied as one brought Fenris inside the ward with barriers and a large wooden gateway to protect it. Lyaera was brought in also, and immediately felt her heart pang at the sight. It appeared that other soldiers had made it here, too, some had lost their limbs, while others laid there screaming as their eye sockets bled due to them being ripped out, she tried not to gag at the sight.
Turning her head, she was carried where they took Fenris inside a white tent and placed him on a wooden bed with furs to cushion him while she was placed on another. She laid by his side throughout while the Mages performed their healing spells on them, their hands waving across the wounds on their bodies, some even seemed quite surprised by his markings even. Her injuries weren't as serious and once she felt her wounds close up along with being giving a few droughts, she felt right as rain.
"Will he be alright?" she asked, concerned as she lifted herself off the bed and walked over. The Mage looked at her with a smile and nodded, causing the elf woman to let out a sigh of relief. "He will be fine, it may take a while for him to awaken, but we've done all we can for him, it's up to him to do the rest," his voice held experience, through his hood she could see periwinkle blue eyes staring back, along with slightly wrinkled skin around them - he was quite an old Mage.
Before she could ask any further questions, another Mage came running up to her. "Messere, may I trouble you for a moment?" he asked, near close to catching his breath, Lyaera looked at him as if surprised by the title.
He retained his composure before motioning for her to follow him, she complied while walking beside him. "We have a patient, he's rather weak and we've been trying to heal him back to health but nothing seems to work," she could tell by his young voice that he was rather new to all this, preferably an apprentice of some sort "I've read in my books that something called Elfroot could help and... well, uh... I figured as you're..."
"An elf?" she finished for him, her eyebrows raised as she crossed her arms "and you want me to look for it." The young Mage stuttered slightly, soon becoming nervous but Lyaera reassured him with a smile, even though she had been quite badly injured, she felt well enough to perform the task.
"It's no problem, I can recognize it better than your kind anyway, just sit tight and look after my friend, alright? Tell him where I've gone if he wakes up," she said kindly before grabbing a bag and headed out of the ward.
It didn't take too long to find a batch, though she was quite a ways from the ward now. A sudden rustling caught her attention though, and thus she looked around but paid not much attention to it, it was most likely a rabbit.
She remained crouched down near the plants, being sure to extract them from the root carefully, her mind wandering off on whether David was doing well in the battle, she did feel bad about just leaving, but she knew Fenris needed her.Hopefully General Lamar and his men were outnumbering the odds of victory.
It was then Lyaera felt a sudden chill down her spine, almost as if it had gotten cold, before she could turn to look over her shoulder, the last thing she heard was...
"Hello, my little song bird,"
But before she had time to react, Lyaera felt herself slip into darkness...
[Exit Lyaera]
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