Iron and Blood

[Valkyrie Ölrún]

"What's it look like?" the scout whispered, hesitant to look through the brush herself. What she could hear frightened her enough; the visual was unfathomable. After a few silent moments, the elf's brow knitted impatiently. She knocked twice on the hardened shell of her demrler compatriot, but he remained completely still, as though paralyzed. "... K'lkbirh? What do you see?" Still no reply. The elven woman took a step forward, pushing aside some of the vegetation that had been successfully obscuring her view of the clearing. She, too, froze.

It was nothing but a wave of men and mounts, as far as the eyes could see. They were grizzled, powerful, though silhouetted before the slowly retreating sun that stained the sky red and orange. Jagged wrought-metal claws could be spotted toward the aft, reaching over the horde in search of blood. The thunderous pounding of hooves and the shouts of distant men were only eclipsed by the terrifying visages of mounted beasts the scout had never before seen in her entire life. There was not enough time to take it all in - and, surely, there would never be; just as the elf had seen the army, she felt the cold grip of a chitin-plated hand on her arm.

K'lkbirh was panicking, emitting loud clicking and whirring noises from his mouth while pointing desperately toward the coast and ocean behind them. The elf was still recovering from what she saw. "No, we can't run, if that's what you're trying to tell me. Did you even see that? Kurultai and Etheos must have brought every single soldier they had on Dariel to the front lines, and they're on the move! We have to let everyone know." The demrler, however, was unrelenting. With a quick opening of two small casings on his back, four wings emerged, and he held out a hand to his coworker.

Meanwhile, from within the marching army of the combined Etheosian and Kurultain soldiers, Zuut'hkon Firuz still reviewed plans and tactics in his mind. To launch such a massive attack on the other empires was an astounding risk, but he, the most brilliant Kurultai officer stationed in Dariel, had been placed at the head of the alliance's entire combined might. Behind him stampeded an estimated four-hundred men, beasts and siege machines, and while he was advised by several other Zuut'hkons and Battle Group Commanders, he was the one that would either shine or have his honor crushed beneath a steel-plated boot.

The man had been outraged at the news of a possible treaty, and subsequent alliance, between the Gatlerian Federation and the combined might of Sirrah and Seher. Should the three unite, they would become a superpower far more powerful than Etheos and Kurultai. Firuz and his army aimed to undermine this by attacking the Sirrah-Seher camp head-on in order to cause chaos and slaughter the diplomats involved in the treaty. The battle would be dominated by the creation and maintaining of intense confusion; ideally, by inflicting so much damage and causing so many casualties, they could drive all three empires out of the entire Isle. The time to do so was now; it would be impossible any moment later.

Since the Sirrah-Seher base was situated along the coast of the largest island in the Dariel chain, Firuz planned to completely surround its landlocked faces and make retreat anywhere but by sea impossible. In the initial attack Kurultai and Etheos had the advantage; their strike would carry a degree of surprise with it, and they would be attacking a force that was likely unprepared and undermanned; while Seher and Sirrah probably had most of their forces still stationed at the base, the only Federation soldiers present for a time would be the somewhat small troupe sent to escort the diplomats. Ideally, they could route out Seher and Sirrah quickly before taking care of the Federation reinforcements. Firuz could at least hope that things would go so perfectly.

The base, just as massive as the one Kurultai and Etheos had left that morning, was in sight, and almost immediately the towering siege machines were brought into position and armed. Dariel's forces were somewhat light as far as machinery went, Firuz mused; they only carried with them two catapults and two cannons. Yet it was enough to begin a barrage. A small crew of Kurultaic engineers rushed to the forefront of the force and set up a series of small rockets, lighting them and running - whilst ordering others to do the same. A deafening screech filled the air, followed by blazing lights in the sky that impacted the ground; one appeared to backfire and careened harmlessly into the ocean beyond. Left behind the functioning rockets was a dense smokescreen that enveloped most of the camp.

By then, the catapults were loaded and unleashed, and the army was called to charge. The thundering of feet and hooves alike shook the earth before they collided abruptly with the fastest opposition.

[ OOC: Iron and Blood's first canon battle is here! As you probably know, a canon battle is a medium to large-scale battle in which the actions of the fighters within (you) has an impact on the control of a region. Because this is the first canon battle, and we want to start things with a bang while simultaneously testing out our ideas regarding region control, the faction that wins this battle controls the entire Isle of Dariel. Which is why you should post, post, post here, because if the topic dies, it will be judged by the admins at that point in time and the winner announced without you being able to make a difference by keeping it alive and seeing it through.

This canon battle has some special rules. You may kill opposition without the Valkyrie's consent, but if you powerplay and kill droves of soldiers, you will be penalized, have the Valkyrie-consent rule imposed on you for the topic, and possibly even warned depending on the situation's severity; like all roleplays, please be realistic when fighting. However, despite this, there are a few specific NPC's that will be introduced that may only be killed by the Valkyrie; these creatures or people are especially powerful, require teamwork and strategy to take down, and their deaths impact the result of the battle. Right now, the only NPCs with this special rule are Zuut'hkon Firuz (the leader of the Kurultai-Etheos force) and the diplomats. More will be introduced as the battle progresses.

Kurultai and Etheos: Your goal here is to stir up chaos and destroy your opposition while making your way to the diplomats. Your view is obscured by smoke; this severely limits your line of sight.

Sirrah and Seher: Keep order, resist the Kurultai-Etheos onslaught enough to push them back, and defend the diplomats. You have been caught by surprise. Your view is obscured by smoke; this severely limits your line of sight.

Federation: You have the fewest troops in the field at the moment, but the diplomats and those guarding them are currently standing in an area not obscured by smoke. Reinforcements are available, but they don't know yet that there has been an attack.

Good luck, all characters. ]

[Ulic Rythe]

“My lord?” asked a meek voice.

In response, a thunderous growl echoed from within the folds of the dark room, “Hmm?”

“The Priests would like to see you,” replied the messenger.

“Tell them I will be there soon,” Ulic growled.

The messenger did not respond before disappearing out of the door, but inside the beastly lich remained quiet. His tent was dark, with only a few lights to outline the creature’s body. He sat at a desk with his head lowered, body fully armored except for his head. Grey-violet orbs scanned one of the small books in the room, and a few remaining strands of long silvery-white hair. His armored hand reached up and ran across the top of his head, cold steel radiating across the remains of flesh upon his cranium.

Suddenly, as the warrior-lich grasped the obsidian helmet there was a thunderous tumult outside. All down the hall he could hear screams and cries from the warriors and the priest of the Sirran army, but it seemed to be cries to arms – not those of fear. It was time for war, it seemed, and it did not surprise him, for he had been called from the north for that very reason. So he pulled his helmet over his head, and stood from his desk. A long cloak, tattered and beaten, was pulled over his massive shoulders, and he swept from his abode. The encampment was filled with warriors of all shapes and sizes from both empires – Sirrah and Seher – who ran two and fro getting to their positions.

The lich followed behind them, an obsidian statue storming through camp, and finally he came to the inner courtyard of the base where many of the soldiers were beginning to form up. However, many of them seemed so scared and shaken that they could not keep themselves in formation. It was sad, for the battle had not yet begun and they were already scrambling to get themselves in line. Was this what they had been reduced to?

“Cowards…” he mumbled beneath his breath.

And it could not be any truer, for as he stood there he saw many on the verge of desertion. He saw it in their eyes – if they were allowed to enter the battle field so many would survive to run away.

“Ulic!” he heard call out behind him. Wheeling about he watched as Cyrus came from one of the back tents out into the quad, and approached him in his mixed-mail armor, and his vicious blade hooked to his hip. “My lord, it is finished.”

As if on cue, a wicked aura began to radiate around him. If he could’ve smiled a boney grin would’ve appeared upon the remnants of his lips. It was a secret weapon that the lich had brought with him to the battlefield, and he had sent Cyrus to prepare it. However, it would need one final run before it could be sent out to do battle with the enemy; though none of the other warriors knew about it.

There was a wicked smirk upon the cleric’s face, and it was reflected in both of their walks as they left the courtyard and appeared upon the edge of the camp. The black clad warrior and his apprentice, in similar armor of a bronzed color, stood looking upon the imminent battle field, but neither said anything. They would not be joining the first phases of the battle, but would instead be defending the base in the event that the invader’s got inside the range of the camp.

It would be a fierce battle, and with the smoke blocking their view he could only surmise that it would become brutal very soon.

“And so it begins,” Ulic mused.

This post has been edited by Ulic Rythe on Sep 3 2008, 09:50 PM

[Krag]

"It stinks." Krag grunted. A nearby Etheosian sent him a wary glance.

Fights like these always had a stink. It was an acrid smell, almost like a decaying swamp. I was not a sulfur smell-- although there was a sulfur smell around from screaming rockets-- but a dead smell. A dying smell. A foreshadowing smell perhaps, because after fights like these...

The smell became fresh.

Zuut'hkon Firuz raised his right hand. He was an impressive man, with a lot of impressive things at stake today. It wasn't a well kept secret that the Sultan hated failure. But the Zuut'hkon was in an interesting predicament. He dispatched a rider three days ago to warn the Sultan of the meeting between the three empires. But time was also an enemy, so Firuz was forced to move without the Sultan's consent. What if the Sultan did not want to intervene? I guess if they won today, it would not really matter. A boyish scolding but a pat on he back behind closed doors. But failure..

Krag feared Firuz's place.

Krag motioned his horse to Firuz's side. "We''ll bring you a victory. Mark me."

Krag swung Fright to a balanced position within at the foreline of the main formation. His breathing slowed. He closed his eyes and took a breath through his nose.

"It stinks."

[Sonya Volkov]

A couple of the necromancers stirred. The shrieks of rockets sounded off in the distance. The rest leapt up, including a one Sonya Volkov. She hastened to load her musketoon, trying to ignore the taste of gunpowder as she primed the weapon. A quick clank of a larger caliber ball being loaded greated her, and she jammed down the wadding.

"Smokescreen." Another female necromancer stated. This girl was tending to her hulk, a single undead beast stitched together from parts of several different animals to create a larger zombie. The blonde stared at her through scratched glasses, and glanced to the rapidly forming smokescreen.

"Yea." Sonya replied, and she waved her hand forwards. All across the line, necromancer commanders began shouting, and a wall of undead was formed after quite a bit of shambling and shuffling. Sonya had dragged with her only three zombies, and they were on the front line.

"For'ard to the edge of the encampment." Came a cry. Sonya put her musketoon over her shoulder, observing as the cleric corps began to filter into their lines, and Seher troops began to form up in the corner of her fuzzy eyesight. A couple of the clerics in their heavier armor walked alongside her, chanting out the virtues of the sun. The necromancers began to mimic them, all crying out for victory from the great big fiery orb. Sonya followed like a good girl, raising her musketoon in the air as the entire army presented weapons. The hulk commander was still beside her.

"This is going to be messy, no doubt. Too many rockets for this to be a raid, and command seems to think the same thing." She stated. Sonya nodded, and began to summon a bolt of negative energy in her free hand. It crackled, and she awaited a target.

"Sun, I did pray that you'd never actually land me in combat, damnit." Sonya murmured to none but herself.

[Authmaelui]

"It stinks." Mathias warily glanced towards a nearby Kurultai soldier before looking back at the stretch of land between their forces and the Seher-Sirrah camp. Ares snorted, rolling his heavy head to one side. Mathias paid it no mind.

The battle ahead weighed heavy. Seher, Sirrah and the Federation working together would overpower the alliance of Kurultai and Etheos, crippling them if it was allowed to form. Stopping them was an absolute must; what did it matter that Etheos had the best men if the triad could simply call swarms of numbers? Etheosians were proud, not stupid. Forcing the others off this island would also allow for an additional outpost, though Mathias hadn't spent much time considering the tactical advantage of owning it.

Mathias was afraid. The combined forces and the cost of losing this battle were high stakes. But Etheos had fought such odds before, had raised her broken and weary body from under the rubble to strangle the horse that had trampled her with her own bare hands. A lot of the men here probably wouldn't leave the field, but if it meant winning it was an acceptable cost. Their leader was smart, even if he was a little more hairy than Mathias would like.

He was terrified, but it was felt every battle. Each breath was more exhilarating, so he could scarce sit still by the time the cannons were being lit. His hand flexed and loosened on his lance, the other throbbing but feeling good. It hurt, but the memory of the pain was a sign of life, and it was such a carnal instinctive knowledge that Mathias wanted more. It wasn't a sane longing, and those scholars of Seher would likely never understand; but it was why Etheos would win. What sane man traded lives with others over land?

Ares snorted again, the rust red steed as eager as the soldier. It matched its owner well; barding protected the majority of it, so that it could storm troops and poorly trained wielders of pikes without falling prey. Its eyes were focused ahead, prepared for what would come. It was truly a creature of instinct, but how well it sang with Mathias. The man had gotten the horse a few years ago, and had yet to be displeased. Its ferocity and control was typical of the Etheos breeds, the contrast making them ideal for cavalry charges.

Leinahtan tightened the grip he had on the horse's reins. It was difficult with fewer fingers, but he'd long since learned to manage. When the battle began, he fully intended to charge. The barding on Ares would protect it from obscured pike lines, so long as they weren't trained in the specific weak points located in the armour. Aside from that, the soldier's lance would do good work as well; abandoned when he no longer needed it, to be recovered after the battle. His other weaponry was on hand, as always.

The zombies. Sirrah was as predictable as it was a loser. The nation relied on its magics to send the walking dead of both sides. It wasn't so much a forced loyalty as a removal of all instinct; zombies weren't difficult to destroy, like with the possible triad forming their power laid within their numbers. Swarms of them were difficult to manage without a more extreme force, such as flaming arrows. The smoke was too thick to warrant attacks like that; the chances of Etheos-Kurultai casualties made it a poor tactical choice.

A simple charge, then. Up close melee, with those armed with long range keeping as close as needed for accuracy, but as far as they could manage to keep safe. All three sides of the base was to be attacked, so that any retreat would be into the water. Assumably they would be able to defeat them out there, then take on the federation's reinforcements. Even if things went ideally, the battle would be long. Fighting the rested reinforcements after the first battle would be hard; the men would be tired and already the numbers would have dwindled.

Mathias was happy not to be in Firuz's position. Instead he manned the frontline, like so many other faceless soldiers, wearing the same anonymous armour as he. When the call to attack went up he would be prepared. The soldier's hand still throbbed beneath its bandaging and greave, and he felt the weight of Ares stirring. The awe-inspiring sound of catapults flying overhead sounded, and then the men were off. Pebbles bounced in their places from the sudden collision, as the men met with their opposition.

It would be a proud day for Etheos. No exceptions.

[Valkyrie Ölrún]

A tower, armed and armored to bear the weight of several men, rose to its feet, plated gauntlets slowly curling into fists. She demanded to be called simply Zaz - a shortened nickname, but coincidentally the word for "glint" in the native language of the demrler race. Her silence was deafening in the mind of her inferior; the small necromancer could feel a drop of sweat forming upon his brow, every muscle tensing, silently praying to the Lord Sun that he would stride out of the tent alive. Zaz turned, every massive plate sliding across one another. He now realized why she was called such a thing; the light filtering into the room cast a bright, almost blinding glint upon her polished steel plates. It was as though she was glowing, blessed by the All-seeing Sun.

She was glowing, but her eyes were smoldering. The tower took a step forward, and he visibly flinched. This appeared to amuse her; Zaz giggled softly and took two more, faster strides before wrapping her fingers around the long hilt of an even longer sword that lay just to the right of the necromancer. Pulling it off of the ground with ease, she tested its weight briefly, satisfied, before propping the weapon on her shoulder. There was no exchange of words; he had said everything he needed to say, and Zaz seemed to rarely speak when not actively commanding. Zweihander in hand, she disappeared out of the entrance to the massive command tent.

Zuut'hkon Firuz dug his heels into the sides of his steed, sending it into a gallop. The smokescreen was holding, but it was obvious that the initial charge had succeeded in performing its first intended function; confuse. The vast rows and columns between tents were surely filled with warring soldiers of every empire that stepped over the corpses of the slain as they worked. Amongst his riding and directing he caught glimpse of the tips of flames in the distance, smiling slightly to himself. Someone was beginning to set fire to the area, it seemed.

For a human, the commander of the Etheos-Kurultai army was intimidatingly built, outfitted in tough chainmail that allowed for a greater range of motion when attacking. After watching another barrage of catapult fire, Firuz drew his bow and nocked a pair of arrows. There was no denying the accuracy and lethality of the Zuut'hkon's poisoned shots, but he still had his beloved blade Salarabaji - Disembowlment - at his hip. He did not need a god to worship when he could protect himself with such fine weapons.

A potential target became visible in an area where the smoke was beginning to dissipate, moving as though taunting the battle-hungry commander. From his vantage point and visibility he could trace the visage of a heavily armored adversary that towered over most other soldiers on the battlefield. The man's armor, so well-polished that it reflected the setting sun in an almost blinding manner, almost matched the brilliance of the steed on which he rode. A massive spotted cat almost the size of a horse bore its heavy rider with nearly no trouble. Firuz smirked; he would take out the mount and let his own men tear apart the walking suit of armor.

He pulled the fletching of his two nocked arrows back as far as the string could hold, his strength bearing the weight of two full-grown men upon only three fingers. A brief mental judgment of angle, wind speed and direction. His steed still running, Zuut'hkon Firuz aimed and let loose his envenomed shafts.

The man squinted, lowering his weapon to judge the result of his attack. He was speechless.

Massive blade lowered to the point on the dire snow leopard's flank that Firuz knew his arrows would hit, the two projectiles had simply bounced off the flat of the blade before they could tear into flesh. To parry arrows in midflight... the Kurultai officer yearned to fight this man further. He pulled hard on the reigns of his steed and careened down the hill and toward the innermost rows of the base.

Meanwhile, the group of Federation soldiers gathered at the calm black-sand beach at the very outskirts of the base they visited, tension thick in the air; while the diplomats appeared relatively calm and collected, their group of guards kept their weapons drawn and their muscles tensed. While an agreement could not be reached in every respect, it was common knowledge that each and every one of them would die on that day if they did not call for the help of their brothers in arms. A single soldier, contemplating volunteering as the rider that would deliver the grim news to their encampment, stared out into the rest of the ensuing battle.

Fire had engulfed a small section of tents and the barrage of artillery appeared to cease, the air thick with the cries of battle in almost every language. Plumes of smoke from slowly collapsing living quarters rose high above, staining the burning sky with dirt and choking fumes.

[ OOC: The leader of the Sirrah-Seher alliance has been introduced; the powerful and somewhat enigmatic cleric Zaz. Currently, the only NPC's with the special approved-kill rule are Zuut'hkon Firuz, the diplomats, and Zaz. Feel free to attempt to engage them if you so choose; it is a risk and requires some level of planning, but the reward is great. Remember that these NPC's can only be killed with the permission of the Valkyrie and thus should be treated as though they are fellow player characters.

The smokescreen is weakening, but a small section of the base has caught fire. The barrage has temporarily ceased.

Sirrah and Seher: Your leader is now on the field, significantly strengthening the morale of all who behold her. All soldiers are now aware of the intrusion and most are battleready or already actively fighting. There are enemy mounts and infantry parading through the base. Organize yourself and stem the tide.

Kurultai and Etheos: You have progressed enough that disorder is running rampant through the base.

Federation: Your allies are continuing to struggle to call for reinforcements. ]

[Capt. Thalon Geres]

"I have heard talk of dissension among you. It has been said that we are the bastard sons of the war, the forsaken defenders of the Federation in Kande. It has been claimed that we were sent to this blasted land so fat, greedy bureaucrats back home might sit on their asses and grow fatter and line their gilded purses with our blood stained treasure. I have heard that none of you would die for our Federation, die as slaves in a free land, die as thralls to the gold of merchant-tyrants. You think that it would be in vain to throw your lives away for such, as such."

A soldier in the first rank of soldiers sneered as if he knew what was coming; the Captain was famous for his tirades against the Federation and his displeasure towards being deployed to Kande was no secret.

"Then hear me!"

Thalon Geres screamed in the face of the snide private, having caught sight of his face.

"Your thoughts are not unfounded, though they are misplaced. Your fate could have been far different than to live in our glorious Federation. Have you ever pondered what it might be live under the rule of the Sultans of Kuraltai, where the use of magic is prohibited, where you would be slaves to the cruel and vicious will of the Minotaurs? Or perhaps Etheos, where your future depends solely on who your parents, bound to the codes of a rigorous and unequal religion? Or maybe the mages or the necromancers could have at you with their unnatural ways? Instead, you are all Federation-born, citizens of the great power on Dinja, subject only to the benevolent and fair rules of our government, bound only by honor to protect our ways. I command that today no man dies for an unjust cause, that no blood is shed to fatten our itchy palmed rulers. I command that today if any man dies, he dies for the honor of our mighty Federation so that his life might not be lived in vain and that so his death is a hero's death. I command that today we fight for what is right!"

With that, the Captain dismissed his company from the deck of the ship to ready their arms. Though their had been no sign of need thus far, Thalon had heard the screeching blast of artillery and assumed that its source was battle. He could have been wrong, of course, but it never hurt to be prepared and besides, their were some issues that needed addressing in his company. Few Federation soldiers sought duty in Kande as wild as the place was and as a result morale was often low among Federated troops. Thalon's own attitude towards it all didn't help matters in his own company and to battle with such little faith in country could only spell disaster. His goal had been to quiet those whisperings and stir some life into his troops for the impending battle, if it came. If it didn't, then matters would be even better despite the ending note of his speech. Either way, it was over now and he had planning to do. Beachheads could be very messy

(Oh man, I need to shake the rust off )

[Assassin]

Fire, Sicarius could smell it even at this distance. The putrid smell of death mixed with the smell of burning. He looked towards the battle gazing at the confusion that erupted before glancing back towards the guards and the diplomats. To think that an assassin like him would be hired to protect some old men and left to the mercy of the Federation's reinforcements. He grimaced at the harsh thought, each hand gripping a pistol tightly while he frowned and turned back.

"Our lives may depend on whether any reinforcements arrive. One of you should be a messenger and take the horse. The rest of us will hinder the enemy and protect the diplomats," said Sicarius cautiously, his face hidden by his hood as he spoke, "Protect them at all costs. Even if it means you will forfeit your life."

"I'll volunteer. Anything to get away from this suspense," replied a young guard, clearly shaken by the experience as he got on the horse and prepared to ride away.

Sicarius nodded and gazed back at the scenes of the battle. His visual acuity increasing as he focused on the soldiers and his pupils enlarged as he did so. He was not sure whether the reinforcements would come in time but battle was almost inevitable. He began to load his pistols, opening the priming pan and inserting a small amount of powder inside.

"In front of us is the chaos of battle and the clash of great companies and behind us is the mighty sea, whose shore we are standing on. There is no avoiding battle at the moment, if there will be a fight then it will be a fight to the death!"

He would be ready when the enemy came. It was just a matter of who would win the confrontation and who would get out alive.

[All`sharra]

All`Sharra stood on a hill together with a squadron Aeons looking at the battlefield. The stench of sulfer blood and decay the air was drenched with it.As they watched they heard the screams and battlecries which came from the surprise attack by the kurultai-etheos army.

"How much longer darallan`sha?"
All`Sharra asked to their leader whith the sounds of battle filling the sky
smoke coming from the campment filled the air

"Alld`Arra said to wait until the sign is given by Zaz....
keep an eye out for those rocks...should there a fire ignite on one of those tips then whe march.
Darallan`Sha said with determent words.
while the screaming contineued and the smokescreen clearing up revealing the sight of the battle itself

"will whe alone suffice Darallan`sha? whe are with few and they are with more...how do you see that whe would prevail?"
All`sharra said while looking at their commander.

"It sounds like you are scared or even have doubt...If it wasn`t for the Fact that whe Aeons don`t have emotions I would swear you are- doubting the will of the sage...."

"It is not like that Darallan`Sha......but whe are with few...how can we make a difference here?"

"That is simple All`Sharra,look at their forces...they attack with cavalry and infantry.....man and beast fear us, even our Seher brethren fear us,
whe make usage of that fear to give them the idea that the Aeon are attacking them...Also it is an announcement to the world that the Aeon are present in dinja again and have joined the Seher army since whe fight under their banner....." Said Darralan`Sha while loosening his cloak uncovering a mail vest underneath a black dyed leather armor.
reflecting the faint light that shined upon it.

"Whe have been given some special equipment for this task.....use it well"

As the Aeon awaited the signal for them to advance they watched over the campment that was beeing attacked while preparing their gear.
The silence before the storm...soon they would take a plunge into battle to do that one thing that they earned their freedom for.

As The Aeon stood there All`sharra watched over the shore from a hillside waiting for the signal.
The battle progressed within the encampment leaving grey clouds of smoke rising from the encampment.
the stench of death was everywhere, if it weren`t for the fact that their Seher comrades didn`t allowed them to enter the encampment they had to camp on this hillside about a mile away from the original base.
now they where just standing there waiting for a signal.

All`sharra thought by himself "The sage asked us to stall the enemy but how is that possible? even with the additional Aeon squads who just came by whe are still to sheer in numbers to actually be of any influence, even though Darallan`s plan is a good plan it will most likely not have the impact which it is supposed to be" suddenly a raw voice sounded in the back of All`sharra`s head which said "do not doubt my judgement child...I have forseen everything.....the federation recieved word as quick as words can travel and now they are preparing...with the federation army an Aeon will arrive...you know him it is Yll`Drimm...." the words Yll`drimm flashed trough All`Sharra`s head Yll`drimm was a special Aeon one of the protectors of the sage tree and the ninth Aeon in the entire history on dinja which could use magic.
"He will take dallaran`Sha`s place even if the battle is lost...whe have something that is of value on that soil"

suddenly the voice dissapeared as quickly as it came and before he realised it the signal was given.
It was there and then that the 4 Aeon squads which had gathered by then mobilized.
the banner of seher was held up high as it danced in the wind and they marched with 48 schytes held up high into the air.
Armed to their teeth they marched towards the battle,

And so it begins........

((kay i really need someone else to post now))

This post has been edited by All`sharra on Sep 18 2008, 10:12 PM

[fallenrain]

Tyurru had taken this assignment thinking it would be a relatively simple and peaceful one. She needed a break from all the things they had her doing since she had joined the military. It seemed as though they kept her busy with one thing or another. All she had to do was escort the diplomats from her own country and make sure they had their meeting with the Sirrah-Seher alliance. Of course there was always the chance of something like this happening, but she didn't think that it would actually happen. The mage had never seen real battle before and didn't wish to see it any time soon. It was a bit too late for that now though.

Tyurru stood there, guarding the diplomats, stone-faced with her staff at the ready. She couldn't show her fear to them, lest they began to fear for their lives as well. They had retreated to the black sandy beaches behind the base where the alliance was to be formed. Tyurru listened to the man that had been hired by her country to travel with them and help protect the diplomats. His words were not as inspiring as he had hoped them to be. At least, not for her. Having to listen to the word 'death' sent a shiver down her spine. She knew there was a possibility of her dying, but she had never let it slip into her mind until just now.

She watched as one of the younger recruits agreed to ride out and summon the reinforcements. Hopefully he would make it in time. She could only close her eyes and say a silent prayer to the Sun and prepare herself if the battle should make it's way to them. She would be an asset to their small group due to her defensive spells. Tyuuru would probably be their first line of defense if it came to that. This was something she was not looking forward to. She began to wonder if the allied forces of Sirrah and Seher would be able to hold them back at all.

She let out a few deep breaths and calmed herself. She would need to be clear headed. Just in case.

((OOC: I hope this is ok. I just kinda wanted to jump in the action))

[All`sharra]

As the Aeon neared the battle they saw that the enemy forces where awefully organised meaning that their fear tactic wouldn`t turn out as they hoped to.

"I cannot contact the sage something here is interfering with the telephatic contact between us and the source I suggest whe split up in 4 squads scatter trougout the camp and find Zaz or any other commander if you find one follow their orders as if they where a direct order of the sage himself" Darallan`sha said while our movement became synchronised and faster The screams from the encampment became clearer.
suddenly Darallan`Sha shouted: "second squad to the west third squad to the east fourth squad on me"

The two other squads both followed the orders given and began to move in the given direction and before He noticed himself All`Sharra found himself surrounded by enemy forces vaguely seeing his brethren engaging in combat suddenly he hear a shout coming from his rear.
He swung his schythe at a etheos soldier which skillfully parried it and countered it as quick as he blocked it.

All`Sharra barely dodged the attack since this would be his first contact with enemy soldiers.

"So....The Shadowfolk decided to join the Sirrah as expected of those who use undead or was it Seher?" The soldier said while taking some distance readying himself for another attack All`sharra remained silent while blocking another attack coming from another soldier while kicking him back.

"I have no time for this...." All`Sharra thought "I must find any commander" while he looked around.
suddenly both soldiers attacked him at the same time.
All`Shara made a fell swoop with his schyte cutting trough one of the soldiers armor leaving a deep cut on that soldiers arm.
while he hit the other one in the stomache with the back of his schythe.
The soldier fell on the ground while the other one screamed and dropped his weapon.
Suddenly a screech filled the air it was an unpleasant sight to see
their squad leader Dallaran`Sha fell to the ground pierced by several swords and spears having his artificial body dissolve as he turned to ash quickly All`sharra ran over to his dissolving body, quickly upsurping the remains of their former squad captain he grabbed his schyte which he dropped on the ground.
then he shouted "Until Yll`drimm arrives with the reinforcements i am in charge, whe don`t have time for this ignore the enemy and move until you reach friendly forces move with those until you have found yourself a commander whe have got to help to restore the line! now move!"
from that moment it was every Aeon for themself.

Another screech tore the air appart coming from the west which resulted in a series of screeches "They probably engaged minotaurs that isn`t good not at all...." All`sharra thought by himself while speeding up his pace.
If this continues there won`t be anyone left for Yll`Drimm to command.

worried about how this might turn out All`sharra gave his last order as substitute squad commander "Scatter and follow the previous orders if anyone manages to reach te sage then contact everyone,now....scatter!"

The Aeon scattered advancing further into the base All`sharra felt something at his side and he saw a cut in his body that was regenerating "damn...that must have happened when i upsurped Darallan`sha`s remaining mana......" while he advanced further into the core of encampment.

[Ulic Rythe]

“Come Cyrus,” said the lich, “It’s time to turn the tides of this battle.” His voice was a low growl amongst the tumult of battle around them. And the pair swept along, a pair of blackened capes billowing in their wake. They moved back into the encampment, away from the edge of battle. A rogue arrow streaked out and stuck in Ulic’s cape, but he ripped his cloak out of the ground and continued onwards past the fires of the burning tents, only to be faced with a small horde of warriors from the Kurultai Empire. They ran rampant within the base, many small bands made up of five and six warriors, and while the Sirran and Seher warriors fought bravely they died very quickly beneath the heavy tauren axes.

A small hunting party appeared before the pair, and swept upon them viciously. They were young, inexperienced, and did not know just whom they faced. The bronze and obsidian clad pair stepped forward, and riposted with resounding fury. The undead king and his mortal follower broke left and right in opposite directions, moving swiftly and brandishing their weapons boldly. Cyrus dodged blow after blow with his natural grace and agility, some by inches – others by feet, and every uncanny dodge seemed to give him an opening to the large minotauren bellies. The human cleric gutted them like pigs, his red blade gleaming in the fire and sunlight. Ulic, on the other side, brought his sword to bear the weight of every blow brought down upon him. With his undead strength he could match the minotaur’s power, and he batted their weapons away and used his massive blade to cleave them in two.

Soon four beasts lay at the pair’s feet, just in time for a small band of Sirran and Seher troops to arrive. Most of the men were already beaten and bruised, but the sight of Zaz, their glorious commander, upon the battlefield spurred them on. They were a rag-tag bunch, but Ulic had use for them. Their leader, a dark skinned man in his thirties bearing the gold Sirran crest upon his breast plate stepped forward and kneeled before the lich.

“My lord,” he said, “The Kurultai and Etheosians have breached our defenses. We are trying to push them back as we speak.”

“Good, good!” Ulic growled, obviously pleased, “You men will now follow me, understood?”

“Aye, my lord!” They all said in unison.

The squad was a mixed bunch. There were close to forty of them, twenty of which carried swords and shields. Five of those men were wearing Seher colors, and also carried long rifles on their back. However, there were also three clerics and a single necromancer among them. Then there were ten soldiers carrying spears, who appeared to be cavalrymen, but they had no horses. They were also in Seher colors, and Ulic assumed they had not reached their mounts before the battle had begun.

“You men!” Ulic shouted at the Cavalrymen, “Find horses and perform a front-side sweep of the encampment, and don’t let anyone in! Find more reinforcements if you can.” The soldiers bowed low and ran off to find horses. They had been at the west side of the encampment, and he hoped that portion was not totally overrun. Suddenly, the obsidian-clad commander turned about and pointed at the riflemen. Then in his usual growl of a voice said, “Find cover outside of the perimeter. Keep us covered, but don’t get carried away; fire and move. Go now!”

These men too bow and ran off – more quickly than the others. They dropped their shields but kept their blades, and seemed to be readying their rifles as they moved. At that point Ulic glimpsed a large group of Sirran riders run past the outside of the camp. There seemed to be more than the ten they had had, and he was pleased that they had found another small group of riders to join forces with.

“The rest of you!” he barked, “Surround our spell casters. Keep them safe and get them to the front of the encampment. Cyrus and I will meet you there soon.” The men ran off only moments later, and formed a protective barrier around the four spell casters. Ulic and Cyrus then turned and walked to the eastern portion of the camp, to the pair’s set of tents. Ulic’s was a bit bigger than the mortals, but he did not sleep here. He kept other things within the confines of the tent. And when he ripped down the cloth barrier that veiled it from the outside world it revealed a plethora of dark items and undead parts.

Over the past several days Ulic had been collecting parts from all manner of creatures, and he had attached them all together forming what appeared to be a flesh golem. It was a bipedal figure, just over six and a half feet tall, and had the head of a dog. However, its limbs seemed to be human of various skin tones, though all was deathly grayed and each bit was sewn together with thick red thread. Its left arm was a bit bigger than the right, and instead of a hand it had a large piece of metal attached to its wrist. It was about three feet long, sharpened, and very broad. Ulic had piece him together by hand, and now stood before him, arms outstretched, calling forth the powers of necromancy. He drew deeply on the wells of necromantic energy, summoning forth an ancient undead soul, and all around him the air grew still.

Cyrus stepped back, somewhat fearful, and kept his hand tightly upon his blade. Bolts of violet energy sprang from Ulic’s obsidian finger tips, and energy pulsated all around him. It was as if the lich was jump-starting the beast’s heart, and with a howl an ancient spirit rose from the earth between lich and golem. Ulic broke the chain of lightning and thrust his left arm forward. The spirit seemed to be choking, and Ulic pressed deeply against it. He focused a great deal of energy into his hand, and the spirit seemed to glow as it was imprinted upon the golem. The creature howled like a banshee, and thrashed about while the lich forcibly thrust the controlling spirit into the golem’s figure.

Then, with one final thrust, the two merged, and the golem’s eyes opened.

“Welcome to this world, my pet,” was all Ulic said.

[All`sharra]

After realming around over the battlefield having his clothes drenched in blood All`sharra sought out a commander suddenly He ran into a minotaur warrior with a humongous axe which was decorated with the blood of fallen soldiers.

As the minotaur pulled the sword out of the ground after cleaving a wounded soldier in half he noticed All`Sharra.
He readied his axe and charged forward.
"I have got to act quick" All`sharra thought and dodged the first stroke
which was swung horizontally at him by throwing himself to the ground.

He quickly rolled sidewards as he was barely missed by the minotaur which axe just dug itself in the earth at the place where All`Sharra was laying a moment ago.
He tried to get up quickly but he noticed something was pulling him back.

The minataur stood on his cloak holding him down.
As the minotaur roared and held his axe high up in the sky.
The Aeon named All`sharra quickly drew a small knife and cut his cloak off
and rolled aside uncovering his chainmail armor underneath a black dyed leather piece of body armor which was decorated with the symbol of the seher army and a series of belts holding all sorts of medium and small sized axes and daggers with the exeption of two regulair sized swords which where attached to his belt.

The mail shined faintly while the damage to the armor was shown pretty clearly. All`sharra bended over and picked up the schythe that he had dropped in the procces, which was light in comparasement with the large axe the minotaur held.

As the minotaur swung the axe at him again All`sharra quickly jumped into the air trying to dodge the axe.
however this time the axe hit him damaging his artificial body with a deep cut alongside his leg.

The mana leaked out and the body started to regenerate the damaged parts.
The minotaur tried to strike again but All`sharra was quicker he took a swing with his schythe and placed a clean cut trough the wooden branch of the axe sending the other half flying across the hill before digging itself into the sand.
The minotaur charged at All`sharra but he was to quick since his wound had already been generated.
he quickly cutted trough one of the minotaurs leg muscles rendering it immobile.
After doing this he just took off without finishing the beast knowing that it would take ages to bring it down on his own.

suddenly All`sharra spotted a monsturous creature standing up between the tents.
He ran towards it with the understanding that there would be a lich nearby which was obviously a commanding function.

While he ran towards the undead creature he saw that four other Aeon had noticed the same some even had some scraps of former Seher or sirrah squads with them.

After the groups merged together they encountered enemy cavalry.
out of the group of soldiers one Aeon jumped forth.
All`sharra recognized her she was the leader of the fourth Aeon squad
as she jumped forward the other Aeon including All`sharra leapt forward readying their schythes.
The enemy cavalry came in closer and just as they where to be crushed by the enemy those four aeon mowed the legs underneath the mounts away with their schythes cutting clean trough them. the other soldiers which followed them where stunned and followed them further towards the creature leaving enemy soldiers which where now unmounted behind wounded or finished off by the soldiers which followed.

The sounds of screaming horses was unbareable and heard all across the battle field...they where screaming in pain the inhumane cruelty of wounding horses wasn`t exactly the most humane way of dealing with cavalry but it was the most effective way.
And that was all that matters to the Aeon.

They reached the lich named Ulic seeming that in training they had to learn everything from their racial cousins the undead and their other relatives the lich. Upon encountering they phroned on one knee while some of the human soldiers looked up to the humongous undead flesh gollem that had just stood up.
They where frightened.....you could smell their fear a mile away.

The Aeon which phroned in front of the lich said the following as one voice:
Brethren how can whe be of service to thy the lich Ulric,
whe shall do as thy command as if thy where to be the sage tree himself that would bestow his judgement upon us,

then The female Aeon which was known under the name of Ill`Shalei rose after which the other Aeon rose.
All the Aeon handed him their hands covered in armor while Ill`Shalei said the following:
greetings Lich whe are the first four Aeon squad commanders,
as their hands where shaken they introduced themselves,
number 1 Ill`Shalei squad leader of the 1st squad
number 17 All`Sharra substitue squad leader of the 2nd squad
number 34 Um`Rath only survivor of the 3th squad
number 46 squad leader of the 4th squad
remaints from the 1st 2nd and will arrive shortly
the 4th`s location is unknown.
Now i ask of you again, my brethren how may whe serve thy?