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Post by Brandwyn on Oct 10, 2009 17:22:23 GMT -5
The supreme commander of the Aslavian army, General Abdulah, wasn't happy with their progress so far. Sure, they were probably only 4 or maybe 5 days from the coast, as his slow army moved, but he had expected to have already engaged with the enemy and wiped them out.
He was bitterly disappointed that the only resistance they had met in Gallica so far was a few minor knights or Barons with a few men that were scattered across the countryside they had passed through. These men had been easily dealt with; most of their heads were on pikes lining their own castle walls and now had the Aslavian flag flying from their turrets. There was no honor in these little battles.
It was hardly the battle he had expected to fight for Gallica. Where were these Gallicans and the remnants of the Toscano army? His scouts had reported seeing no signs of them for the last four days. So far he was just marching across the country, seizing their food and livestock and trampling their crops.
Nor had they found any sign of the woman who had escaped him, or her accomplices. He glared at the slowly moving train of wagons and marching men stretching out in front and behind his personal cavalcade. They were too slow and he seemed to be blind to the movements of his enemies. Even his supposed allies, The Grizzlies were not to be found. His operatives he had sent to deal with that camel dung, Guage, had not returned.
A rider approached on a lathered horse and pulled up to ride beside him. The scout saluted him and Abdulah signaled for him to report.
"Sir, there is a rather large village about a day and a half ahead of us. Dead in our path. The villagers there have tried to create a barrier around the village with wagons and huge spikes they have planted in a circle around the village. Rather than fleeing before us, these fools seem intent on defending their homes."
Abdulah shook his head, "stupid peasants. These Gallicans are the most foolish of people I have ever seen." He nodded to the scout, "get some rest and then a fresh horse and see if you can get to the coast. I want to know if those Araluen's have actually landed yet or not."
The man nodded, "Yes Sir, thank you!" He rode off at a trot on the nearly exhausted horse to swap it out for a fresh one and a bite to eat. An hour later he was back on the trail, heading due west to the coast.
Meanwhile Abdulah issued orders to prepare to assault the village when they got to it. He scowled as he rode, tired of these little villages that stood in his way. He wished someone would bring a decent fight to him. All of these little skirmishes over tiny holdings or villages were tedious and time consuming.
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Post by Tandar on Nov 2, 2009 10:30:27 GMT -5
"We've got enough material to pollute several water sources. Nothing too fancy, just stuff to make 'em sick."
Killington grinned and waved his men into the column.
"I suppose we should get moving."
The specialist picked up his pack and joined the rest of the soldiers.
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Dougal
Apprentice Messenger
Posts: 597
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Post by Dougal on Nov 5, 2009 4:39:57 GMT -5
OOC: Sorry for the short/bad post.
It was a shame that Killington didn't have anything potent enough to kill the Aslavians outright, but it definitely wouldn't hurt if they were sick when they faced the Araluen army. Dougal searched his mental map of the area and came up with three relatively major towns, the ones that the Aslavian officers would like to occupy. He gave Bolt their rough location - Dougal wasn't able to keep a completely accurate map in his head - and sent the officer off. Killington would do his job.
With that out of the way, Dougal was beginning to wonder what his next course of action. If the Aslavian commander was even half-way competent, he would notice when the disease began to spread and would begin to suspect something. Perhaps it would be better to kill the leader now, and let the disease add to the confusion. Yes, that sounded like a very good plan. Only, how would he pull it off? He had to assume that the Aslavian scouts were at least as good as he was, so hiding up a tree wouldn't be a very good plan. He needed to scout out the path that the Aslavians would take and then work things out from there. He already had a plan forming, but it was going to be risky. It depended on his soldier's abilities to hide and their capability to strike so hard and so fast that the Aslavians wouldn't know what hit them.
Turning to his men, and woman, as Dougal's ironic self mentioned, he gave orders.
"We've got a day or so before the Aslavians get here, so I'm thinking that we should set up an ambush for their general. I'm thinking of putting a section or a fragment in concealed pits near the road, just close enough for us to identify the general and take him out. We'll use a couple of siege arbalests to make sure that the job gets done, and cover our retreat with fire starters and grenades."
He turned to face one of his men in particular, a man who was especially good with a siege arbalest.
"Jake, I want you to pick out the best five men with an arbalest. You'll be about four hundred metres in the woods, in a clearing. When you hear the first explosions, you're to lob grenades at the road.
"Everyone else'll be scattered about at the same distance. If you hear use yelling bloody murder, launch at counter attack at our position, okay? It'll just be a quickie..." a couple of soldiers sniggered and Dougal glared at them until they feel silent. "To get us out of trouble. We're not here to take on the whole army. Got that?"
Everyone nodded.
"Alright, move out."
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Post by ivory on Nov 10, 2009 17:15:57 GMT -5
Angel'd been standing too far away to see which towns he'd pointed out on the map, but figured he'd picked those with higher possibilities of harming the Aslavian army. She watched in silence as he relayed his orders to Bolt, studying him into a profile. It'd become a habit of hers: observe, profile, calculate, and she had a tendency to apply it to just about everyone she came into contact with, except for one. Well, in truth, she'd applied it, the results on the other hand weren't up to satsifactory level or anywhere close. She wondered briefly, where Rip was, then decided she was better off not knowing. He didn't necessarily scare her, just had the tendency to put her on edge. It like almost as if he knew, which of course, was ridiculous. Only one other person knew of that.
Tuning her thoughts out, she turned her attention to the conversation between Dougal and Jake, though it was more of an issuing of orders than a conversation. Nevertheless, she used it as a distraction from her previous thoughts and when the time came, she moved with the majority of the other troops, not having nearly enough knowledge about arbalests to make the five-man cut. She did however, have more than enough skill in knowing how to work past the agonizing of her muscles, all in curtesy from Dougal, which at the moment she actually thanked. Some thoughts were better left alone.
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Post by Brandwyn on Nov 11, 2009 22:10:07 GMT -5
Mou’Sayid decided to skirt the edge of the woods on his trek towards the coast. General Abdullah would want to know if there were any of the enemy soldiers in the woods. He cantered his horse through the loosely packed trees, in site of the fields of grass to his right where his army would be following in about a day or so.
Up ahead he heard some footsteps and a man grunted. Mou’Sayid pulled his horse to a stop and listened intently for a full minute. He could make out the sounds of a small group of men through a thicket in front of him. He dismounted and led his horse closer, moving quietly.
He parted the tree branches and saw a small group of men wearing non-descript fighting gear and carrying what looked like huge crossbows through the trees. He always got confused on what all the different types of weapons were called and how they worked. His job was to scout ahead and report back his findings. Usually he never even had to lift a sword. And yet he was one of the General’s trusted aids – within the close circle that Abdullah surrounded himself with, which was unusual given his lack of skill with weapons in general.
The men were setting up in a clearing that lay between them and the open field. The clearing had just enough underbrush along the edge that they would likely not be seen by the army’s outriders. They had just started laying out their ambush site from what he could tell.
Mou’Sayid had seen enough. He backed his horse up in order to turn it around and with an unfortunately bad stroke of luck; the horse stepped on a broken stick and snapped it in half with a loud crack! Then it whinnied as it caught the scent of strangers.
Disregarding further attempts at stealth, Mou’Sayid leapt into the saddle and guided his horse through the underbrush and other obstacles that grew thicker the deeper one penetrated the woods.
He made for the open grass where possibly he could outrun his enemies, hoping he could get away to warn the General of the ambush they were planning.
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Dougal
Apprentice Messenger
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Post by Dougal on Dec 13, 2009 4:39:50 GMT -5
OOC: Sorry about the long wait. I'm going to try and get at least one post out a week, so hopefully the pace will pick up.
IC: The pits were cleverly designed. Each man dug an initial hole that was wider than their shoulders by about three feet and six inches deep. A second hole was then place in the centre of the first, u.just wide enough for the digger to rest comfortably on their belly. The floor of the second hole sloped upwards so that the person being concealed could still view the roadway and fire their weapons.
Once dug, the trenches were overlayed with thick branches by other team members, while those who dug the holes stayed in place. Next, small branches and twigs were used to cover fill in any major holes so that, when dirt was placed on top of the digger's position, they weren't buried. Leaf litter was then placed over the dirt, and the entrance to the hole was hidden by light brush, and made to look natural. As a result of all this hard work, most scouts would walk over the hidden SWC member without even realising it. You really had to know where to look in order to find the hide.
Of course, the rider never found out any of this. He had only caught Dougal and the other soldiers digging the initial hole when he ran.decided to get out of there. Later, in hindsight, Dougal would be grateful that he had been discovered by a scout who was did a sloppy job, but at the time he was more than a little bit annoyed. As always, he reacted quickly, seizing his arbalest and charging towards the sound of the horse and rider. However, rather than being out in front, Dougal found himself lagging considerably behind his men. His body ached every time he moved and, despite his determination, he found himself unable to keep up his usual pace.
As a result of this, Dougal arrived at the open, grassy area couple of seconds after his men. They had already opened fire on the rider, and he did the same. The rider was a hundred metres away, and would probably reach the three hundred mark by the time Dougal's bolt hit him - if Dougal could shoot perfectly. Despite the light, long range bolt he was using, he doubted that he would hit the rider.
As the arbalest jumped back into his shoulder, Dougal saw the first projectile begin to arc downwards at the rider. It was a half kilogram iron ball, capable of going straight through a horse, let alone a man. Even if it didn't hit the target, it would still have enough energy to wind the horse or break one of its legs on the second ro third bounces.
The other three projectiles were a combination of heavy and light bolts, all more than capable of killing both horse and rider. Dougal, not usually the sort to pray, did so. If the scout escaped, he would have to scrap his plan and the Aslavian leader would doubtless be more on his guard than ever, making it virtually impossible to kill him.
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Post by Brandwyn on Dec 15, 2009 21:55:33 GMT -5
Mou’Sayid heard a whistling sound behind him and glanced back, over his shoulder. His deeply tanned face turned nearly white as he saw the ammunition flying toward him. He urged the horse faster.
The first bolt hit the ground just to the right of him and his horse jumped sideways, away from it, and then stumbled.
Mou’Sayid yelled as the horse went down and he went flying from the saddle in front of the horse. It rolled over the top of him and for a brief moment, the entire weight of the horse smashed him into the grass, then the horse was up and running away, leaving Mou’Sayid behind.
Mou’Sayid squirmed in agony and tried to get the air back into his lungs. When he succeeded, he screamed in agony, wishing he hadn’t caught his breath as several broken ribs protested each breath.
He heard another whistling sound and saw a big round iron ball flying straight toward him. Despite the pain of a broken leg, he managed to roll out of its path at the last second as the other bolts whistled around him. He gasped, his breath rattling in his lungs and he could feel blood filling his lungs. He lay on his side and covered his head with his arms and prayed that the end would be quick.
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Dougal
Apprentice Messenger
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Post by Dougal on Dec 24, 2009 1:22:25 GMT -5
Jake's bolt was the first to land. It overshot the horse, causing it to shy and then stumble, throwing the rider. Dougal couldn't believe his luck. If that had been a trained warhorse, it would probably have kept on going, not that scouts usually rode trained warhorses. After all, they didn't need them, did they?
The horse rolled over the rider, and Dougal strode forward, arbalest by his side and a pleased smirk on his face. His muscles were really sore and he had been dreading having to chase the bastard down. Now, though, it would just be a nice leisurely stroll out into the middle of an open field. Not the safest thing to do but, all the same, not exactly the most dangerous thing that he'd done today. The grassed area extended for several kilometres in every direction, and so any approaching enemy would be spotted before they got into firing range. Even if they were cavalry, there would be enough time to make some sort of defensive plan before the enemy arrived.
As he walked, Dougal noted that the man had curled up on his side, doubtless because of the extreme pain that he must be in. He probably had several badly broken ribs, not to mention other equally painful injuries, and Dougal decided that the scout must have been a pretty tough little bugger to even be conscious at this point. Having had broken ribs of his own, Dougal could begin to feel the pain that the scout was feeling, and he felt a little bit sorry for the dying man. As much as he liked to kill, Dougal hated to draw the death out. If someone had to die, they might as well die quickly.
Finally reaching the man, Dougal prodded him with his foot, just in case the scout was foxing. The poor man screamed with pain, and Dougal knew that there would be no tricks. Grabbing the back of the scout's head with one hand and his chin in the other, Dougal broke the unfortunate man's neck with a loud crack. It would have been pointless to try and get him to move, and Dougal was hoping that he'd silenced the man before they'd drawn too much suspicion. After all, there were a lot of men screaming in pain at the moment.
Turning to his men, who had followed him all the way, Dougal gave out instructions.
"Jake, Harry, take the body back to the ambush site. The rest of us will tidy up behind us, and then follow. Once we're back, we'll wait an hour and then, if no one's come running, we'll search the poor bastard for intel and dig him a grave, right next to our hidey holes."
Jake and Harry nodded and left with the body, while Dougal and the other two members of his fragment looked around for the bolts and the steel ball. The fact that the SWC used siege arbalests was something that Dougal wanted to keep as much under wraps as possible. Besides, it never hurt to make sure that you didn't leave behind something that you enemy could use to get you.
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Mri
Apprentice Scribe
:)
Posts: 207
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Post by Mri on Dec 24, 2009 21:03:52 GMT -5
Angel hadn't been picked to join Jake's group for she lacked the knowledge Dougal had wanted for the group and so could only wonder over the sound of a yell. She was too far away to hear much of anything else, but figured the man had been taken care of and immediately dismissed the occasion from her mind. She swept her eyes around her own group, calculating if she could get away with it or not. She no doubt could, but not without raising Dougal's suspicions and that, she wanted less than anything. She'd worked too hard to get in here, fought against his disregard of women, to lose it over something as petty as that. So she'd follow orders and wait for the action to come to her. She just hoped it wouldn't take so long. After their long trek here, she was well enough ready for it.
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Post by Brandwyn on Dec 25, 2009 19:05:24 GMT -5
A riderless horse cantered into the Aslavian camp around 2 am and caused some commotion as it made its way toward its stable mates. One of the stable boys recognized it and remembered which scout had taken it out. He noticed dried blood on the saddle as he untacked the horse and bedded it down for the night, giving it a warm mash. The horse had been lathered as if it had run all night.
After he finished rubbing it down he made his way to his superior to report that another scout was missing...
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Dougal
Apprentice Messenger
Posts: 597
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Post by Dougal on Jan 20, 2010 5:26:52 GMT -5
The scout walked right over the top of Dougal and didn't suspect a thing. A few sprinkles of dirt dropped down onto Dougal's shoulders, but the branches held and didn't give his position away. He smiled, and peeked through the undergrowth covering his view hole. The Aslavian army was just coming into view around the corner and, soon, their supreme commander, or whatever he called himself, would be visible. Carefully and with a minimum of movement, Dougal checked that the bolt was still on his arbalest and that the string was in working order. The check also served to relieve some of his aching muscles, which were far worse than normal thanks to Henry's bashing.
Dougal's mind wandered back the ship and he winced as the remembered Katrina's frightened face after he had lost it, and then the sadness in her eyes when he'd rejected her. The loss that she'd suffered, the betrayal that she had endured spoke to him and he felt horrible for rejecting her. She deserved much better, but could he give her that. Did he want to? He tried to stop thinking along those lines, knowing that it was dangerous, but he had to admit that he was attracted to Katrina. It wasn't just the fact that she was physically attractive or that she had been through a scenario very similar to his, it was the fact that, despite his rejection of her, Katrina still loved him.
Love. Love was what he had sought all his life, and yet this time love came in a form that he could not collect. He could never love Katrina. They were from opposite ends of the spectrum. Him the bastard son of a tanner and her the daughter of a Duke. And yet, Dougal wanted to hold Katrina in his arms, to caress her tenderly and to make her his.
No.
He would not continue this train of thought. He had made his decision and he would not back down on it, especially not during a time like this. He needed to focus his full attention on the matter at hand. One false move and he would sentence himself and five others to death, if not more. The SWC were loyal to each other, and the other members would doubtless rush to Dougal's aid if it looked as though he might be killed. Even if he gave them a direct order, they might choose not to obey it. He would work out his feelings towards Katrina later.
There! The Aslavian supreme commander was just within range. Dougal waited, calculating the distance between the pits and the commander. The sound of the siege arbalests would alert the Aslavians, and so, the commander needed to be very close. In a few moments, Dougal would fire the first shot and then the rest of his fragment would open fire, having heard his arbalest release the bolt. Within seconds the Aslavian general would be dead and the war would become much easier.
Pushing the brush covering the entrance to the hole completely away with one hand, Dougal rested his arbalest on the lip of the hole and aimed his arbalest at his target. The arbalest had a vertical piece of metal just behind the claw that held the string. It was notched in fifty metre increments, but they were so close to the Aslavians that the crude iron sight wasn't even needed. One more second and it would all be over.
Tung!
The deep, heavy sound of his arbalest firing its bolt was soon echoed by four more tungs as the other members of Dougal's fragment sprang into action. He could feel that his bolt was going to be on target and remove the most brilliant general the Aslavian's had, and he had a feeling that the rest of his men were on target too. In any case, it was time for part two of the plan, the part that would instil fear into the superstitious Aslavians.
With a roar that would probably have deafened any Aslavians standing next to him, Dougal smashed up through the branches and soil, emerging from the hole with two jars in hand. To the Aslavian soldiers, it must have looked as though Dougal simply stood up from the ground. He gave a second wordless battle cry and then threw both his jars at the Aslavians. He bent down to pick up the other two jars that were in his hole, covering his ears at the same time.
The explosion was deafening, at least for anyone within a twenty metre radius and downright deadly for anyone right in close to the explosion. As he stood to through his fire starters, Dougal could both hear and see more explosions happening in the Aslavian line. Men fell to the ground, clutching their eyes, while others clutched at their throats or gasped for air, as both their lungs had collapsed. The phosphide grenades were brutal and effective, but they weren't altogether lethal. Their job was to disorientate their victims and, if possible, to disable them in some way.
Now partially deaf, Dougal threw his fire starters. One landed on top of a Aslavian knight and managed to get under his armour before it ignited. The poor man scream in shear agony and dropped to the ground, rolling futilely to try and remove the flames. The other fire starter landed just short of the Aslavian soldiers and started a small fire that soon spread as leaves and some small bushes caught alight. Looking down the Aslavian line, Dougal could see similar scenes, and knew that it was time to retreat.
"Fall back! Fall back!"
Even yelling at the top of his lungs, Dougal could barely hear himself. Luckily, his men had better ears than him and started to run back towards the rest of the SWC. It was just in time too, because Jake and his men launched their phosphide bombs into the Aslavian army, one of them landing in what had been Dougal's hole. Only quick feet and several thick trees saved Dougal's lungs and ears from being ruptured. A ringing started up in his ears and he realised that it was going to be difficult to lead any sort of battle if the Aslavians caught up with them. Still, he would do his best, which was much better than what most other people's bests were.
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Post by Brandwyn on Apr 5, 2010 21:19:49 GMT -5
General Abdullah and four of his closest advisor's and captains rode in the center of the army , fairly close to the leading edge as it made its slow, crawling, relentless march toward the western coast of Gallica. They had been traveling at the slow pace for hours and had not seen a single sign of the enemy. The only indication they were even in a war was that some of his scouts had not returned. Some of their horses had come back riderless.
He scanned the surrounding countryside, especially the line of trees far off in the distance. Many in his army were trudging along, half asleep. He glanced at his second who seemed to b dozing in the saddle. "They are out there watching us. Stay alert!" He ordered and the men within sound of his voice perked up a bit.
Unfortunately it was just a little bit too late. Abdullah heard the screech of the arbalist bolt sailing toward him before he could locate where it was coming from. Before he had time to react, the bolt slammed into his chest and toppled him from the saddle. As he started to fall he felt another slam into his ribs from the other side. When he hit the ground, unable to breath from the impact, he saw his second and two others propelled from their saddles with huge arbalist bolts protruding from them.
Pain exploded in his body and he was unable to inhale. As things began to turn red and his vision grew dimmer, he heard a human roar and then several loud explosions. His ears ringing, he felt the cold clutches of death and thought to himself, 'so this is how it ends, much as I figured it would.' Then with the image of his favorite wife on his mind, he slipped into eternal blackness.
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Katrina had been sending out Scotti scouts for days, trying to pinpoint the Aslavian army and determine it's path. Inadvertently she had run across Dougal's outfit just a couple hours previously, though she did not know who they were. She held her men back in the woods, pacing the Aslavians as quietly as they could, while she sent messages ahead to the main army with a plan of attack.
The Scotti were chomping at the bit to attack and Katrina and Shamus had their hands full keeping them in check. "Not yet. The time is not right. They will slaughter us to no avail if we attack them now." She rode up and down her lines, repeating the order to maintain ranks. Katrina had just reached the front of her lines when she heard explosions coming from the direction of the Aslavians. She turned her horse and motioned to her escort to follow while the others remained behind.
From the outskirts of the trees she saw the Aslavians in a chaotic turmoil, the front of their army's ranks were a shamble and many were panicking. The panic seemed to swell out and back through the army like a wave.
Katrina saw a chance to cause more chaos and after a quick assessment of the risk, she blew her horn for the attack. "Now! Attack! Attack!" she hollered and spurred her horse forward, grabbing her lance from her retainer and striping her flag off from it as she cantered toward the swirling mass of Aslavians.
She heard the Scotti give a massive battle cry behind her and they all charged at the enemy. She reached them long before the rest of the Scotti, except for Shamus who was right by her side, his sword ready. Screaming at the top of her lungs like a banshee, Katrina slammed into the side ranks of the Aslavians, skewering men on her lance and kicking them in the face as she rode past them. Many panicked and ran in fear before her crazy charge. Shamus covered her back, and was a virtual killing machine, screaming his own battle cry. When Katrina looked back, she noticed her retainer, a young lad of about 16, had found a spear and had mounted her banner upon it and was following in her wake bravely.
Before she got into the army too deeply she turned and headed back toward her own army, who was just starting to impact the outside ranks of the Aslavians, Shamus and her retainer still in her ranks.
Over the din of battle and terrified cries of the Aslavians, she thought he heard a familiar voice hollering for retreat. She looked around and caught a glimpse of the familiar blond hair and bulky body of Captain Dougal. Her heart gave a leap of joy and then a jolt of fear hit her as she realized he was still in the thick of it.
She looked around and saw her own men were rallying on her. "Cover those men!" She gestured toward the SWC members. "Extract them! Give them a way out!" She made her slow way toward Dougal, but there was a small contingent of Aslavians who seemed intent on taking her out. For several minutes she fought desperately to save not only herself, but her retainer as well. After what seemed an eternity her men beat back the opposition. By that time Dougal was out of site in the press of bodies and Katrina could not find him. She did not see any of Dougal's men in trouble, so she ordered her men to retreat. They simply didn't have enough numbers to take on the entire army in a head to head battle.
"We'll harass them until the rest of our Army gets here."She ordered her captains. "Keep them stirred up and don't let them rest day or night. Steal their supplies during the diversions. Just for a couple of days and then our army should be in position. Then the real battle will begin." She explained as they rode back for the safety of the trees, mopping up any Aslavian stragglers in their path.
She kept looking around her, especially over her shoulder and wondered what had become of Dougal. Was he near? Had he seen her? If he had, would he approach her, or would he avoid her after their last encounter? She longed to abandon her duties and go look for him, but knew she could not. She was also afraid that if she did find him, he would be cold and distant, or worse, completely ignore her. She wasn't sure she could bear that, so she forced herself to stop looking for him. She decided that if he wanted to talk to her, he would seek her out. He had to have realized it was her men that attacked the Aslavians, even if he hadn't seen her himself.
She cleared her head, or tried to - unsuccessfully- and made her way through the trees to work on a plan for harassing the Aslavians.
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Mri
Apprentice Scribe
:)
Posts: 207
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Post by Mri on Apr 9, 2010 9:11:59 GMT -5
Angel worked alongside her comrades to elliminate the handful of soldiers that had managed to come within range, but her mind wasn't anywhere on the fighting. Nevertheless, her body knew the right movements and counter attacks to keep herself alive while she frowned upon another subject entirely.
He seemed to be wanning a little bit, trying to defy her again. Angel doubted he actually would, but she'd learned to never underestimate her opponents. She'd watched too many brillant men die along such a weak path that it was more than just pathetic. It was moronic and beneath her.
She ducked below the swing of one, came up to slam a blade between the armour at his pits, hitting the artery and causing him to bleed to death in seconds, and pivoted to strike another in his comrade's throat.
Besides, she held him firmly within her grasp. Maybe it was time to tighten that leash; not so tight as to choke him, but close... A little visit could do wonders.
She finished off the antepenultimate man, helped to hide the bodies for the most part, and sunk back into her hole to wait for anymore unfortunate souls to venture across their path.
And as for other matters, she needed to get in contact with them again. As soon as she was able to she would. Unfortunately, she doubted Dougal would respect her personal issues, especially in a time of war.
The sound of battle was still loud up ahead, but it had been slowly losing climax for the past few minutes. No doubt it'd start again.
She gave an inward sigh. May the bodies move no more.
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Post by Brandwyn on Aug 8, 2011 8:54:55 GMT -5
Several hours later Katrina was wearily pouring over strategic maps in the command tent of the Araluen allied forces. The main army had quickly moved inland and caught up with her force who had been sent ahead to harass the enemy, in particular the supply lines and gather as many Gallican warriors as they could round up to join them back here at the site of what they planned to be the deciding battle.
Her men were still out there in position, resting from their latest raid and Katrina had ridden back to report to General Horace. She was hoping Dougal was already there, but had seen no sign of him when she'd arrived an hour ago.
Katrina studied the terrain map and determined that her Scotti forces would be better utilized in this battle than on a raid of the enemy’s camp as they had during the past several nights. They were the bait that had lured the Aslavians right into position. It was an hour before dawn and everyone expected the two armies to engage in the morning, even though they had been marching throughout most of the night trying to catch Katrina’s troupe.
Dougal and his men had been sent deeper afield and were also working to harrass and lure them in, although Katrina had not been aware of their activities until the ambush last night when she had caught a glimpse of him in the battle.
Katrina looked up at the sound of a familiar voice and smiled as she saw Captain Dougal stride into the tent. He made a report to Sir Horace and the tent erupted in cheers. Word finally trickled over to where she stood. The general of the Aslavian army was dead. Katrina sat down on a camp stool. Was it over then? Would they turn tail and run? She looked at Dougal and he seemed rather grim so she guessed not. They were still coming. Horace confirmed her suspicions when he ordered quiet.
“This will be the day, gentlemen, of the end of this war. The Aslavians are demoralized, their leader dead and already several men have deserted during these early morning hours and are heading back east again. But the main army continues and we will be forced to engage them.” Horace pointed at the main map on the table in front of him. “We go through with the attack as planned. Dougal, have your men set off a signal when the first third of the army is beyond this point.” Horace pointed to a spot on the map. “We will attack them from this side and bring up the main part of the army in front of them.”
Katrina walked over and looked at the map and saw the elevated ground with scrub brush on the southern side of the narrow valley Horace had chosen. She had just ridden through the area and most of her men were actually still there where she had ordered them to take cover. “Sir Horace, my men are here and along here,” she pointed. “If you can get me some fresh troupes we can attack from this side and we will have at least half of the Aslavian army crushed in this pincer movement. I have a feeling that many of them will then flee since the bulk of them were enslaved along the way and have no desire to fight anyway.”
Horace nodded, “My thoughts exactly. Offer them quarter if they choose to surrender,” Horace ordered everyone. “I would prefer to kill as few as is needed to turn the tide of battle. Tindale, take your century and set up here just past the Scotti force.” Horace showed the area next to Katrina’s men. “Just don’t get in their way,” he grinned at Katrina and she smiled wearily back. Tindale nodded and tipped his head to Katrina. Her reputation for berserking was now legendary and no one wanted to be in front of the disorganized, yet lethal Scotti forces.
Horace looked around the room at his advisors and Captains. “Everyone understand your roles?” There were no more questions. This was it; the end of the war was in sight. “Take your stations then.” Horace ordered and watched everyone file out of the command tent.
The final battle was going to begin within an hour and although they were still outnumbered three to one, Katrina looked up when he was finished and moved toward the door, only to find Dougal standing right in front of her. She wanted to fling herself into his arms, but resisted the urge, remembering what had happened the last time she'd tried that, not to mention the fact they were in the middle of the command tent of the Araluen Army and several eyes seemed to be trained on them.
"We better get going back to our men, but maybe we can talk on the way." Katrina suggested and grabbed his hand, dragging him out to where her horse was tied. She commandeered another horse for Dougal, knowing he preferred to go on foot, but wanting to share this ride back to the battle line. Besides, she reasoned, they would get there faster if they were mounted and cantering toward the sunrise.
___
Hours later Katrina sat on Ace, the mare's head hanging low, on a low rise and watched the remains of the Aslavian Army running back toward the border of Toscano. They were defeated. Araluen and Gallica had turned the tied and the Toscano men that had been forced to fight with the Aslavians turned on their slave masters and struck them down.
Once Toscano had started, a group of Arridi also turned on the Aslavians and that started a landslide effect that ultimately led to all the men that had been conquered over the last several months by the Aslavians either surrendering, deserting or turning to fight on the Aslavians.
The fighting was now over. Some of the Araluen's forces were chasing the survivors of the Aslavian army back into Toscano to ensure they did not regroup, but fortunately Katrina and Dougal's men were spared that task. It had been days since any of them had had any rest and many of the Scotti were wounded.
Katrina took her banner from her faithful retainer and waved it over her head in a signal to regroup around her. The charging silver unicorn on the black field gleamed in the afternoon sunlight and seemed to come alive on the silk banner.
Her voice was nearly hoarse from shouting orders all day and the previous night and she was so tired she thought she was going to fall off Ace, but she was proud of her men under her command and wanted to make sure all were accounted for.
"To me! To me!" She cried out across the field. Her voice carried on the wind now and the Scotti began to reform around her. When most were assembled, standing quietly before her, some resting on their weapons or sitting in a heap on the ground she held up her hand to speak. "Form ranks and do a roll call," she said to Shamus quietly. Louder she said, "Then lets collect our dead and give them a rousing send-off. Tonight we celebrate our victory and tomorrow we go home!"
The men cheered her and raised their weapons in salute. Katrina smiled at them and raised her banner. After weeks of battles and skirmishes the war was finally over. She looked to her left and saw Dougal standing on another rise and she smiled at him and waved. If she worked it right, she was going to be on the same ship as he for the trip back home. She wondered if he could see the mischevious glint in her eye as she smiled triumphantly at him.
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Post by Brandwyn on Aug 12, 2011 9:10:25 GMT -5
(this thread is now closed)
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