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Post by Brandwyn on May 6, 2009 14:06:35 GMT -5
The supreme commander of the Aslavian army, General Abdulah, surveyed the battle line from the top of the hill with his looking glass. He smiled in satisfaction. The enemy was about to turn tail and run. Small groups had already begun to pull back and try to cross the shallow river that separated Gallica and Toscano. He turned to his second and ordered, “push them back across the river and over that hill so that we can move our command to the top of it.” The man nodded and turned to relay the orders.
Abdulah glanced at the southern end of the battle line and noticed that a group of Gallican knights were actually making a spear point and were nearly through his flank. “Send the 83rd down there along the southern flank. I think our cavalry should be able to disrupt that little push easily.” Abdulah had no respect for the Gallican knights. They did not fight as a unit normally and many of them turned tail and ran when faced with numbers greater than 2 to 1. His own light cavalry would never even think of running away with such easy odds against them. However the Gallican’s had proven hard to kill with all that armor and their trained war horses. The Aslavians cavalry were more of a hit and run type unit, striking quickly in specific spots along the line and then withdrawing when the foot soldiers arrived to fill in. Thus they could disrupt the enemy’s ploys to punch through the shield wall in a wide range of spots along the battle line. He also used them to raid the enemy camp during the night, burning supplies and killing the enemy in their sleep.
He watched now as the 83rd, led by about 20 horsemen armed with scimitars charged down the hill to hit the Gallican knights with a strafing run. The first pass saw only two knights unhorsed, but four had turned tail and ran as soon as they had seen the Aslavians charge. Abdulah scanned the rest of the battle line, but didn’t see anything that needed his attention, so he turned it back to the 83rd. The second run had totally disrupted the Gallican’s charge and they circled uncertainly while the foot soldiers in the 83rd caught up to the line and filled in where the Gallican’s had cut through his line. One more charge by his cavalry and Abdulah watched the remaining 12 knights turn tail and gallop off in a semi-controlled retreat behind a great many of the Toscano foot soldiers who were trying to do an orderly fighting retreat. That pretty much wrapped up this battle, as far as Abdulah was concerned. All along the battle line the enemy was retreating in groups, stopping to fight while those groups next to them retreated and so forth until they got halfway up the hill and far enough away to disengage completely and turn tail and run.
Abdulah smiled as he rode his jet black Arabian stallion back to the command tent in the encampment. Finally, all of Toscano was now his. Now it was time to plan the best route to take Gallica quickly so they could move on to Araluen and the other island nations.
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Post by ivory on May 7, 2009 16:18:40 GMT -5
Teresa Kryptos watched the battle from her place amongst the hills. She lay close to the tree-line on her stomach, making sure she was well out of sight and danger. Not that she couldn't defend herself, she'd just rather be paid to kill those that were someone else's enemy. Though she'd been born in Gallica, she felt no tie to the country and could easily lay back and watch many of them be slaughtered on the battlefield. She just hoped those that helped slaughter her own family didn't die by anyone else's hand but her own. But if they were unfortunate to do so, she'd accept the loss with only a small dose of resentment - caring only if they were swept off the face of the earth.
She rotated between watching the war and scanning her surroundings. Her right hand stayed clasped on the hilt of her saxe knife that lay beside her. In this position it was unlikely she'd be able to twist and draw it from its usual position on the belt around her waste, jump up, and be able to defend herself before her attacker was on her. Though it was also unlikely that she'd be seen in what she was wearing, the possiblity was still there.
She'd taken the liberty to sew bits of leaves and twigs to her green clothing, and though it made it harder for her to be spotted, it was far from impossible. And if anyone accidentally stumbled upon her, they'd easily be able to tell they'd stepped on something besides the ground with which they thought they'd seen.
So she'd watch with her dagger ready for quick use and wait for the battle to be over. Then she'd slip down the hill while the winning party was otherwise occupied with their victory, and take what she was sent to retreive.
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Post by Brandwyn on May 22, 2009 17:30:49 GMT -5
Later that evening the Aslavian Army's command tent was set up on the top of the hill on the Gallican side of the river. General Abdulah did not partake of the celebrations most of the others in the army were enjoying. Instead he was in the command tent pouring over maps of Gallica and the surrounding seas with is top advisors and officers. The next stage of the battle had to be planned out.
His scouts had reported that the remnants of the Toscano army along with the meager Gallican troups had fled some 10 miles eastward and were setting up a bivouac along the edge of a huge forrest. No doubt they would try to melt away into the trees once Abdulah's army pressed them. The trees also limited his shield wall tactics. The next battle would end up deteriating into geuorilla warfare. Abdulah hated that type of war. He much preferred to sweep down on the enemy with overwealming numbers and crush them quickly and move on to the next conquest.
He returned his attention to his advisor who was trying to pursuade Abdulah to launch an attack before the enemy got fully entrenched among the edge of the trees.
Suddenly they were interrupted by an exhausted courier. "Sir, the Araluen's are finally on the move. They are being aided by the Skandians as expected, but there are also others sailing with them!" the man stopped to catch his breath as everyone in the tent waited impatiently to find out what he meant.
"The Scotti have banded together and are sailing with the Araluen's and the Skandians!"
"You mean a tribe or two? That is of no importance." Abdulah made to dismiss the report.
"No, My Lord. Not just one or two tribes. All of the tribes are present and there were rumors of more of their warriors coming overland, through Araluen, to get to the sea. Our spies estimate they will have at least 3000 men to support Araluen."
Abdulah stared at the man in disbelief. "You have verified this?" The scout nodded. "By three different sources. The Skandians sent over at least 10 wolfships to carry the Scotti across the Narrow Sea. The vanguard of the Araluen army and the western part of the Scotti army set sail yesterday. They will hit the coast in about seven days and will reach us within four or five days after that probably."
Abdulah glanced at the map, still not believing that the Scotti had banded together. All their reports said that they were a tribal nation with a constant state of feuds and border raids. If they were actually helping Araluen and Gallica, then this war could take a nasty turn.
"There is more, My Lord," the man said after taking a sip of water. "La Rivage seems to have fallen to the Merchants and Theive's guild yesterday. The Grizzlies have pulled out and regrouped at their camp. What is left of them, that is. Apparently their numbers were nearly decimated during the fighting. Word has it that there were a group of Araluen rangers and scouts that led the fighting. Other word has it that they were working for the merchants guild." The scout was almost afraid to utter the next tidbit of news. He knew Abdilah's aversion to mercenaries and what was coming would only reinforce that.
"Captain Guage is said to be preparing to run. He is convinced that he is being hunted down and is trying to get out of the area and back to Teutlandt as quickly as possible. We have reports that his camp is being struck even as we speak."
Abdulah scowled, once again it was proved that mercenaries were not to be trusted, no matter how much money you paid them or how good their reputation.
Abdulah said to the general who was overseeing all the mercenary groups, "Send Guage a message that he is to complete his mission or no further money will be paid to him and that if he fails, I will send hunters for him." Abdulah knew it would do no good. La Rivage was lost to him for now. This put a kink in his plans, that was for sure. "Hire some merc unit to hunt Guage down. They can kill him or bring him before me. He is no good to us now and I want all mercenaries to know what happens when they betray the Aslavians."
Abdulah dismissed the scout and went back to his maps, his plans now vastly altered with the eminent arrival of the Araluen force.
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Post by ivory on May 22, 2009 20:54:42 GMT -5
Teresa had long slipped off the cloak of the woods and had left it lying almost invisible on the ground. Underneath it she wore the attire of the Aslavian army. The plan was for it to hide her for the most part, but she'd learned never to count on plans - they never went the way they were supposed to. So her handy dagger lay sheathed in one of her boots and her eyes continued their flickering glance at everything around her.
Her pace was neither fast nor slow, but a jolly gait that blended in well with the celebrating crowd. She'd even grabbed a mug of ale to slosh as she walked ,though it never reached her lips. She stumbled into the heart of the camp and after a carefree glance around as she stumbled once more on her feet, she collapsed as if in a drunken stupor.
She moaned only once before 'passing out' in the shadows created by the setting sun hitting only one side of the tents. She concentrated to seperate the excited voices of victory from those in the tent to her left.
An unknown male said, ""Captain Guage is said to be preparing to run. He is convinced that he is being hunted down and is trying to get out of the area and back to Teutlandt as quickly as possible. We have reports that his camp is being struck even as we speak."
The voice she knew to belong to Abdilah: "Send Guage a message that he is to complete his mission or no further money will be paid to him and that if he fails, I will send hunters for him. Hire some merc unit to hunt Guage down. They can kill him or bring him before me. He is no good to us now and I want all mercenaries to know what happens when-"
A rough hand jerked her upright and she muttered a curse in her mind as she missed the rest of the sentence and those after it - if there were any. On the outside she blinked slowly, groggily and took her time to focus on the face before her. His face was rough and his eyes glazed. She muttered another curse within the walls of her mind.
His eyes squinted as he looked at her, taking in the shape "Er ah gir." Of course I'm a girl she wanted to mutter right after slamming her fist into his nose, but she was too trained to do so. No doubt it'd call unwanted attention, especially from those meeting within the tent. She definitely didn't want to be caught by them.
So she peered dimly at him before smiling as if she liked what she saw. 'An er ah boy," she mirrored his slurring.
'I'm.' He smiled drunkily before crushing his lips to hers. Her eyes narrowed as his closed and before he could force her any further, she slammed her palms hard against his ears. As he backpedeled with the pain, she brought her foot up into the nerves beneath his chin. Before he could crash to the ground, she caught him and though straining against his weight, managed to lower him softly to the ground and move him furthur in the shadows. Then she placed her now empty cup limply in his hand and stood back to survey her work with a frown.
It'd be too suspicious for her to circle around back and pretend to have passed out on the other side while he'd passed out here. No doubt, it'd put them on guard and she'd be pressed into hiding - at least for a while. Her frown deepened before with a resigned exhale she lowered herself to the ground beside him and rearranged his clothes before doing the same to hers. She curled up beside him on the side closer to the tent and began once again listening to the meeting taking place.
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Post by Brandwyn on May 28, 2009 15:04:32 GMT -5
Abdulah studied his maps for another hour and came up with a couple of battle plans with his closest advisors. He was going to have to crush the army opposing him now before the Araluens could join up with them. His foremost plan was to swing a quarter of his force around to the north to come at the Tocano and Gallican armies from the side while the rest of his force engaged them from the front. He was going to delay the attack by two days, though to give the smaller force a chance to get into position.
He had is second send out orders immediately for the ambushing group to head out under the cover of darkness tonight. That was going to be difficult, he knew, because many of them had been celebrating for the last four hours or more, but they would move, drunk or not. Or they would be at the front of the next battle.
His second idea was to split the army in half with one side slightly larger than the other and have half of it take out the Toscano force and the other half head for La Rivage to stop the Araluens, Scotti and Skandians when they landed.
He didn’t want to split his force, so this was not his first choice. However, it did have merit because he would prevent the Araluens from landing and setting up a defense if he could get there before their ships arrived and pick them off as they tried to debark the ships.
Abdulah hoped his information on the Araluens was correct. He’d had dealings with the Skandians and they were formidable fighters, but very straightforward, easily dealt with if you used certain tactics with them. He still didn’t believe that there were as many Scotti as was being reported. That would go against all the intelligence he had on the nation of feuding tribes. If the report he’d just heard was true, then he would need all of his force at the coast to meet them, not just a part of it. Above all he must keep them from joining up with the Toscano force setting up a defensive line a few miles away along the edge of the forest.
He ignored his advisors arguing back and forth over which was the better plan and studied the map of the Narrow Sea and the coast line of Aslavia to Gallica. His ships were too far away to engage this vanguard of the Araluens, but if he could get word to them, they may be able to be in position to attack the main part of Araluen’s army when they set sail. He would send out the birds in the morning with orders for the fleet to forget their planned landing on the southern coast of Gallica and instead speed around the peninsula and attack the Aslavian fleet.
Hopefully everything would be timed just right.
“We are going with the first plan.” He cut through the bickering of his advisors. “We have to crush these Toscano before Araluen arrives and make sure they don’t join up. Issue the orders and get some sleep. Tomorrow those not sent with the small force will be able to rest and repair gear.”
Abdulah dismissed his men, checked on his guards outside the front of his tent and turned in for the night. Confident that he was secure in his tent in the center of his army.
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Post by ivory on May 28, 2009 15:19:05 GMT -5
Teresa wasn't aware of the passing of time as she listened intentally on the conversation. She liked neither of his ideas, but her personal thoughts and feelings had no merit here and she wisely ignored them. Father Galen didn't send her here for information, but it was always a good thing to have. What he wanted lay within the body of the commanding officer. He wanted his heart.
But now wasn't the time. Knowing that and hating it, she wiggled out beneath the stank breadth of the soldier beside her and rose silently and slowly to her toes. She kept her weight on them as she squated low to the ground, knees bent and hand upon the blade of one of her many trusted knives, as she watched Abdilah come out to check on the guards. She tensed, wanting to spring and end her mission quickly, but she kept where she was, acutely aware of what was needed of her.
So she'd wait until the moon was high one night before attacking. But not tonight. Tonight, she had another calling.
She waited until he headed back inside before leaving camp, this time moving with the shadows so she wouldn't easily be seen.
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Post by Brandwyn on Jun 21, 2009 20:53:35 GMT -5
Abdulah raged silently inside. Somehow the enemy had slipped out of his grasp. After two days of allowing his small strike force time to get into place, he had called for the attack on the Gallican army that was set up along the tree line.
When they arrived at the site, they discovered that only a dozen men held the line against them. They easily killed those men, most of whom were dying from earlier wounds, and discovered that the rest of the army had slipped through the trees and was on the run. They had made up grass dummies to man the hastily built barriers and Abdilah was furious with himself for falling for them. He had no one to blame but himself, and possibly the scout who had brought back reports of the enemie's defenses.
"Strike camp. We ride until we catch up with them. I want all the scouts out ahead and to the sides of our line. They may try to set an ambush for us." He doubted it. The Gallican and Toscano forces didn't have enough men left to even slow them down.
Abdulah was worried that what was left was going to hook up with the Araluen and Skandian forces though. He hoped the reports of the Scotti were wrong, but started formulating plans as he watched his army from the top of the hill surrounded by his personal guard and advisors.
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Post by ivory on Jun 21, 2009 21:19:31 GMT -5
Teresa had kept close to Abdilah's forces, but not too close to be seen. She was waiting, waiting patiently for a time to strike. She hadn't found one yet, but she needed to soon - time was of the essence. She'd gotten word from a Grandmother [OOC: Grandparents are their information network] a few hours before that three of her Family had been targeted. She wasn't allowed to feel the anger or sorrow at their deaths since she was on a mission, but this time, the news was enough to violate one of their laws. Emotions made mistakes though and she'd kept them underwrap after the first ten minutes of hearing it.
She'd dismissed the Grandmother with a nod even as she yearned to go with her and then escape to Galen's side, though she knew he would've just sent her back. Though she was Mother, his authority ruled.
So she'd kept to her current mission, just stepped it up a few notches, inching in closer to his line of men by 'becoming' a Gallican soldier.
She looked down at her garb and after a few more adjustments, was satisfied. She retreived the knife from her boot and sliced deeply across her leg. As part of the Family, she'd gone through the torture training and didn't even have to grit her teeth to keep from screaming. She knew that if she'd slipped and cut just a half an inch lower, she'd end up bleeding to death, but her nerves were nonexistant and her hand steady.
She was taking a very risky chance doing it, but couldn't think of another way to get closer to Abdilah. The man was constantly surrounded. This way, he'd be tempted to take her in and torture her for information, thus doing her deed for him. Being tied up was a slight problem in her plan, but she figured she'd be able to work through it. The thought of possibly dying after of course, she'd killed him, wasn't of much concern. She knew of Galen's true intentions and would gladly die for them.
Growing weaker with the continuous loss of blood, she hoped that a scout would hurry up and find her. A minute later, her hope became a reality.
She looked at him with tired eyes before resting her chin on her chest. She wanted to give him the impression that she was too weak to fight and he took the bait beautifully. Within seconds, she was draped across his horse and heading back to the main part of the Aslavian army.
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Post by Brandwyn on Jun 29, 2009 5:56:42 GMT -5
"We caught a prisoner sir." A scout reported in to Abdulah. The general studied the woman that had been dumped from the back of a horse at his feet. She had a cut on her leg, but no other visible wounds.
"Tell me how you captured her." Abdulah inquired and the scout explained he had found her too weak to fight back. Abdulah thought that strange. The wound didn't look that bad. Was she faking it?
Was she Gallican? She was wearing clothing like theirs, but Gallica wasn't in the habit of letting their women fight. He wasn't about to get too close to her yet, in case she wasn't what she seemed.
"Stake her out in the sun for 24 hours and then see if she will want to talk to us." Abdulah ordered and dismissed her from his mind for the time being as they dragged her away.
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Post by ivory on Jun 29, 2009 20:09:00 GMT -5
She ignored the curse in her mind as Abdilah looked her over. He'd studied her just a tab bit longer for her worries to spike, but she forced it from featuring on her face. Only exhaustion resided there.
Teresa wondered briefly if she should've added more cuts to her body, but quickly dismissed it. Though it'd help with her disguise she wouldn't have the strength to kill Abdilah. Besides, the one on her leg was bleeding profusly enough and as Abdilah commanded her to the post, she hoped they'd at least bandage it before doing so. Fainting, though it'd help in her disguise, would be a complete waste of time otherwise. What if they said something important while she was unconscious? No, it wouldn't do at all, but she thought with a sigh, if it came to it came to. Such was her line of work.
She let herself sag as they carried her away.
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Post by Brandwyn on Jul 11, 2009 14:30:09 GMT -5
Abdulah sent two of his men to fetch the girl they had captured the day before.
They dragged her into his tent and threw her on the ground at the General's feet.
He was sitting beside a small table on a camp stool sipping on some brandy. On the table were two crystal carrafe's one filled with brandy and the other water. He looked the girl over for several minutes without saying anything, then he poured some water into a crystal goblet and pushed it across the table.
"Get up. Drink" He said in Gallican, with a heavy accent. "What is your name?"
The two men who had deposited her in the tent moved to withdraw, but he motioned for them to stay. They stationed themselves on each side of the tent door and listened.
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Post by ivory on Jul 12, 2009 8:22:08 GMT -5
She figured the drink was probably drugged, but her throat was starched from being kept outside in the glaring heat. She ignored it though and turned her tired eyes to lock with Abdulah's. "Vanessa Waters." Her words were scratchy and hardly more than a mere whisper, yet understandable. Only the Family ever called her Teresa; everyone else would know her as Vanessa, but if they ever tried to find out the secrets about her, they'd find nothing but Vanessa's rich and fulfilling lifestyle...at least in Toscano. All members in the Family were highly paranoid and changed names only when they changed countries. After all, it wouldn't do for people that knew you by different names to meet.
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Post by Brandwyn on Jul 15, 2009 20:56:06 GMT -5
Abdulah laughed at her relunctance to drink and took a large swallow of the water from the goblet and then set it back on the table in front of her.
"Drink. I do not need drugs to control one woman." He said contemputously. "Now, perhaps you would like to tell me what you are really up to?" He sat back and crossed his arms. "No Gallican woman would be out on a battlefield in combat as far as I have ever heard. So who are you really?"
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Post by ivory on Jul 16, 2009 19:08:43 GMT -5
Damn, she'd hoped he'd overlook that fact; she should've known hope was useless - it never worked for her before.
She took the time to think as she grabbed for the water and consumed it within seconds. Her lips were still cracked and dry, but at least her throat didn't seem as if it was stuck closed.
She swallowed the last few drops and after licking her lips, she answered with as much hatred as she could muster, "Aslavians killed my father." She didn't want to say too much at once lest she trip up, so she reached out with her words, feeling around for options she could use that wouldn't lead to her immediate death.
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Post by Brandwyn on Jul 21, 2009 11:17:46 GMT -5
"We have killed a great many people. Such is life, especially for the inferior people." Abdulah said indifferently. "Seeking revenge will only get you killed." He stood up and took a slow walk around her, studying her. "Though you are a bit scrawny, you are not an ugly woman. Perhaps haram life would suit you. It would definately be a much better use of life than revenge." he grinned at her. "My women live in the lap of luxery, all 67 of them." He knew that would goad her and couldn't wait for her response. Did she really think she was going to get any kind of revenge here?
He moved back in front of her and stood there staring down at her with his arms crossed over his chest, waiting for her to reply.
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