(1868-01-24) Siege at Lyioness
Siege at Lyionesse
Summary: The forces supporting Prince Jean-Paul amass outside of the walls of Lyionesse, the crown capitol of Aequor. Battle is joined.
Date: 1868-01-24
Related: Related Logs (If there aren't any, use None. Don't this entry leave blank. If there is a log, use full URLs, like http://eternalcrusade.wikidot.com/logtitle)
NPCs: {$npc}
Players:
Havelock  Myrana  Ramius  Zayne  

It is late winter in Aequor, and the West wants those preparing to kill to know it. THe ground is frozen and crunches when boots manage to find bare ground, which is rare considering the blanket of snow covering the ground. Flakes fall from dark clouds, lazily drifting to Tirth below and adding their number and weight to the slowly depening snow drifts. As the rebelous army led by Baron Sir Ramius d'Arran come into the miles of plains and farmland before the capital of Lyioness it isn't hard to find their opponant.

Parthian Glass is used by officers and counts begin as the army marches and soon it is apparent. The enemy is in battle formation and waiting for them on the plains. Units massed in red tabards while flying the blue flag of Aequor along with the red of the Cardinal's Guard and the black of House d'Kemp. Aequor does not take kindly to rebellion, and while the majority of the capital's army is out defending against White Hall, it is clear that they have amassed a number of soldiery to put down this little insurection.

Two Thousand pikemen in blocks of a hundred stand ready. Supported by five hundred Long Cannons in blocks of fifty. Behind those lines are one thousand longbowmen, bows strungs and fires n=near them indicating they have fire arrows. Behind even those, four hundred Cavalry checking Hand Cannons and loosening scabards.

To the right of the lines the black banners show House d'Kemp forming two Centuries of infantry. Shield, Spear and the front rank appears to have Crossbows. Behind them all, two Trebuchets, and Six cannon. Ten Scorpians are being wheeled into possition on Carts to shoot over the pike, while two carrobalista are being placed into position opposite the d'Kemp force.

Ramius's Captain whistles and hands his Parthian glass to his Baron. "Well. Shit." He says evenly. "I'm glad the al'Callentas or Legion couldn't show up. I'd hate for d'Kemp to have troops." The tone is mocking, and is slighly edged wiht that nervousness that comes before battle. "Their Scorpians are going to be a problem Ramius."

<Pose Tracker> Myrana has posed. They're speaking Common.

There's a measured krch-crchk-crch from the hobnails of Myrana D'Armaz's riding boots as the sturdy little lady makes her way through the ranks of riflemen sent by her father to inspect their hand-cannons and offer words of courage. Her full-skirted brig coat has been repaired and newly covered in pristine maroon wool so that the plates don't flash in the sun, and her white hair is braided down her back with a scarf of blue silk. When she returns to the commander's knot, it is with the long-cannon she won in Kentaire tucked against her shoulder and a trepidatious expression under her fluffy white bangs.

"My forces are ready," she says as she approaches the knot. Even if her voice is quite firm and brave, she can't quite keep her nervousness from her face; it feels a bit like treachery.

<Pose Tracker> Tavi has posed. They're speaking Common.

As the army sent to liberate the West from the Powerful man prepares their stratagem, a group of riders troop toward their force from the Cardinal's Guard. They bear the white flag with a blue stripe, indicating they wish to parlay. The group consists of five men on horseback and they stop near the center of the field resting on their saddlehorns.

<Pose Tracker> Havelock has posed. They're speaking Common.

Resplendent in his plate, over which his red warcoat bearing the White Cross of the Reliants, Sir Havelock Synn moves through the Aequorian host, aiding other healers in strapping their healing supplies neatly and tightly and within reach. A pat here, a tug there and a gentle benediction is given to all who ask for it, enough to hopefully calm those ever present before-battle nerves. With his be-laurelled helm tucked neatly beneath his left arm, the holy knight and newly annointed Doctor does what he can to calm nerves and offer reassurances to his fellow commonfolk, "Worry not, you're in good hands. Not only those of the One, but those of your commanders. Go with the One." And 'Go with the One' is warmly uttered again and again and again as he moves through the bustling mass of men and women. Even with his laurelled helm finally donned, the visor remains up allowing Havelock to meet the stares of those about him as he blesses each and all, some to one side and often a good few groups at one time. Blessings for all as he makes his way through and about the various groupings of soldiery, making his way to the fore.

<Pose Tracker> Ramius has posed. They're speaking Common.

Open rebellion is not typically Ramius' bottle of brandy. House d'Arran is typically content to sit pretty in its holdings in the northeast, serving as bulwark against all manner of terrible things beyond Aequor'd borders. Maybe the recent peace with the North has stirred certain mutinous tendencies that were hitherto occupied with murdering scores of barbarians.

That might be what the historians will say. For Ramius though, this is a family matter.

One cannot simply become married and then NOT move to support one's father-in-law in battle, after all. It's just not something that is done.

"They will be a problem if we find ourselves bogged down in the melee," Ramius murmurs studiously. "The trebuches have effective range enough to hit our rear, and the cannons are a problem in and of themselves. But I'm surprised they've brought them out into the field; I was beginning to worry that we wouldn't have enough firepower to bring down the walls."

"Longbow numbers are worrisome as well. Pikemen and longcannon in combination, but their formation looks traditional. If we move quickly, we'll have time before their cavalry engages, but I'm not sure how much exactly. In any case, we'll have no chance if we can't neutralize or capture their siege weaponry."

He collapses the glass and hands it aside. "So, we have our targets. In order to reach them, three plans. The enemy formations are closely packed squares, so we're going to be using roundshot on the approach. I want the cannons interspersed among our infantrymen. I need the soldiers to ensure that we do not lose our guns. The Thornsmen are probably better suited than we are for fighitng close to those things; less likely to be stunned by the sound. Archers in a line behind that. Cavalry on the flanks, ready to hit the scorpians and siege equipment as soon as the infantry draws theirs away from the targets."

He glances, up, then, at the flag waving over the field. "…Parley? You're joking."

<Pose Tracker> Zayne has posed. They're speaking common.

Zayne stands in his brigadine listening as Ramius speaks the plans. As a mercenary the D'Rana has little issue with this act but as a newly named Lord he is a tiny bit nervous about it. Its a conflict that the man is not used to and one he tries to ignore. They are breaking rules here, rules that will get them killed if they fail. So with eyes narrowed in determination Zayne asks Ramius. "Where do you want me and my men then? I can ride with my calvary to hit the seige engines or I can be with my men-at-arms on the front line. Me and my men are far better at charging the enemy and scaring the living daylights out of them than being in the back." He crosses his arms over his chest and eyes the men come to parlay with a faint frown, but he makes no further remarks.

<Pose Tracker> Myrana has posed. They're speaking Common.

Myrana reaches out and takes the glass from Ramius and peers down it with the practiced non-chalance of someone who could buy another one if it got jiggled too strenuously or dropped (then again, she isn't that far off the ground, so it might not break). The freezing wind rises up off of the snow and blows the bangs back from her face.

"That man there on the left is Lord Richard D'Kemp," she says, frowning. "Arthur D'Kemp's brother." Snapping it shut, she hands it to the captain of Ramius' guard and swings up onto Sage's saddle with a flash of skirts and plated shins. "Lets go meet them." And waiting for the others, she rides out to meet the parlay halfway.

<Pose Tracker> Ramius has posed. They're speaking Common.

"Zayne, have you ever seen a hound herd a flock of sheep?" Ramius asks, carefully adjusting the formations of troops on an outspread map. "You'll have two very important jobs. I will need you to harass the flanks whenever you see an opportunity. Strike at their sides and guide them away from the artillery. This battle will be won on the basis of who can utilize their weaponry to their utmost, and that means making sure that they need to fire through their own men to reach us, while also ensuring they become easy targets for our own guns."

He glances up again at Myrana's words, then shrugs. "I suppose it would be only polite. Or about as polite as rebellion can actually be."

<Pose Tracker> Tavi has posed. They're speaking Common.

It takes a few moments, but soon Ramius, Havelock, Zayne and Myrana find themselves meeting the enemy parlay halfway between the two armies. The man that Myrana recognizes speaks to Ramius. "Arran." He says without using any of Ramius' honorifics. No d', no Sir, and no Baron. He smirks slightly. "You will likely want to know that the King has striped you of titles and gifted my family your lands." He looks to his fingernails and frowns slightly. "All of you actually are now berefit of your titles." He looks to Myrana and frowns sadly.

"My lady. The King and Queen believe you are being used, you can come with us and we'll see you taken safely to the castle." He bows his head politely then looks to the others. "Here are the terms. Surrender, in full, and you can live in exile in Four Corners. Your men will be spared and sent to their homes. No blood need be spilled here today."
<Pose Tracker> Zayne has posed. They're speaking common.

"I can do that. Though I suspect it will be more like an angry bear chasing a crowd of hapless farmboys. We will see." Zayne grins to Ramius taking in the words spoken carefully and nodding his agreement.

He also mounts up and rides out to meet the group of men to parlay. His massive black light charger Rage stomping up to meet the men. Zayne looms from his horse glaring at the men. Once they are done he flashes a wicked grin, clearly trying to intimidate them. "Is that all? You expect us to give up and go away stripped of our titles and our pride like cowards? Without even a fight?! No. We will fight you, because unlike cowards I for one do not fear you. Kill me if you can because thats the only way your getting me to leave my homeland."

Havelock remains seated upon his grouchy warhorse Grendel, having joined the parlay team at the last moment, and listening to the terms, it does indeed warrant the faintest twitch of an eyebrow given the terms laid out. Not that he says anything, being a simple knight. Holy or otherwise.

<Pose Tracker> Tavi has posed. They're speaking Common.

Richard d'Kemp blinks at Zayne and then after he moves his head back, he shakes his head and chuckles slightly. "First. I know not who you are Lord. Second. I have numerical sueriority, more Artillary, and the will of the One on our side." He gestures. "You have what? A rabble of militia at best." He shakes his head and looks to Ramius. "Arran. What say you?"
<Pose Tracker> Ramius has posed. They're speaking Common.

Stripped of his title? Of his lands? Ramius stares straight into the noble's eyes. Into, it seems, the very depths of his soul.

For a moment it seems as though the former Baron is… stunned.

But then he starts laughing.

It's a deep, powerful, boisterous laugh. The kind that carries for leagues and miles and reverberates deep in the hollows of other men's chests. "Haaaaaaaahahahahahahaha! You say he stripped me of my lands, my titles? And you think this is GOOD for you? Do you even understand what it is he has done, you manicured, cuckoled fop?"

Ramius, now truly Ramius Arran once more, spreads his arms before his army. His lips curl into a grin wider than any man in his position ever should wear. "He has freed me! We are no longer nobles! We are no longer Aequoran! This is NO LONGER TREASON! In removing my shackles, he has restored my honor, and the honor of all the men of the mountain! Yes! I am no longer Baron Ramius d'Arran. You no longer fight a mere BARONY here!"

"I AM RAMIUS!" He bellows, his voice carrying, somehow, even unto the distant bulwarks. "TODAY, I AM KING UNDER-MOUNTAIN! Tomorrow that may yet change, tomorrow I may be Baron again, but for now you may tell your men that this is no longer an insurgency." His grin fades, folding its mirth ever so slightly into a serene smile. "This is war. Good, honorable, proper war. And as men of the north once again, it is our place to revel in it in the ways of our ancestors."

<Pose Tracker> Zayne has posed. They're speaking common.

Zayne chuckles. "So you have the false confidence that numbers bring and lies on your side then? Best of luck to you." He doesn't look phased at all just amused by the d'Kemp's arrogance. He looks to Ramius and the mans reaction draws another wicked grin from the d'Rana. "You gentlemen seem to have woken the beast. Good luck…oh and its Zayne d'Rana by the way. And my Black Bears would kill to meet you." And with that he turns his horse about and trots away back towards the rebel camp.

<Pose Tracker> Myrana has posed. They're speaking Common.

At first, Myrana is startled by the big, wild laugh that bubbles and then roars out of her husband; her blue eyes clear to a brilliant sort of horror when its revealed that D'Armaz has been stripped of its rank and title… but then she shifts in the saddle, and a sort of prickling anger works its way up her spine. It bristles along her shoulders and rings down her arms to her hands, which tighten on the reins where they rest atop her forward knee in the side-saddle.

"No-one uses the D'Armaz," she says, quietly, contralto voice rich and full of smoke that'd totally deny the anger roiling in her belly and visible only in her eyes. "We came to our holdings in defense of our King, who sits in the shadow of evil sorcery, befuddled and enslaved." Sitting up straighter, she shakes out the weight of her braid so that it shifts across Sage's grey haunches and falls beside her skirts. "D'Kemp, I advise you to return to your brother's forces before my husband shoots you, as he's no longer bound by the rules of chivalry."

<Pose Tracker> Tavi has posed. They're speaking Common.

The man glares at Ramius and then at Zayne. He frowns and gestures to his men. They begin to trot back. Richard calls over his shoulder, "I'll find you on the field Arran. Look for me coward." Then he and hsi men pick up speed. As Richard and his men get to their army, trumpets begin to sound, and the Infnatry stamps their Pike ends on the ground in unison. Orders begin to be called, nad the Trebuchets begin to wind and be loaded. Cannons are loaded, and Carros are put into the launchers of the carroballista. Long Cannons are cocked and arrows put to string. The enemy prepares to march and engage, while their cavalry rears and waits for the order to charge.

<Pose Tracker> Havelock has posed. They're speaking Common.

"The very same evil sorcery that tore through Rikton and has since torn our beloved Church asunder." Havelock intones in amost measured voice, the ornate laurels atop his helm catching the light just so, a glint or two bouncing off the finely wrought metalwork, "Blood need not be shed, but it shall be. It always is." And with a glance towards the departing enemy and the host beyond, Havelock turns his horse back towards the army that now itself seems to be /the/ insurrection in the eyes of some.

<Pose Tracker> Ramius has posed. They're speaking Common.

"Indeed! If I really wanted to, I could just strike you down now, and feel no worse for it," King-Under-Mountain chuckles at Myrana's warning. "But I am magnanimous. Go on, have a head-start. You'll need it."

"Don't worry, I'm sure you'll be hard to miss," Ramius grins and wiggles his fingers at the departing knight. "Given the size of your ego, I'd wager it'd be a miracle if my archers didn't pop it in the first volley." He chuckles one last time, then swings his horse back around to meet with his forces.

There, arranged before him, six ranks of men in mixed ranks. Pike, crossbow and longcannon standing side by side, protected by shieldbearing heavy infantry and militia. Behind that, the archers stand ready. Interspersed among the lines are cannons fully loaded and ready to fire the first volley. "Brave soldiers, you may have heard the news! We are no longer Aequoran!" Ramius roars from deep in his gut. "Our opponents have deigned to unyoke us from our oaths! Take heart, this is no longer treason! You fight today with pride and honor. People of the Mountain, your homes are at stake now, more simply than the well-being of this kingdom. Fight to defend it! People of the River, your prosperity is in danger. Raise your arms or it shall be stolen from you!"

"We ride today not only to save the kingdom to which we once swore our loyalty. We ride as well for our families, our homes, our future. Sing the warsong! Beat the rhythm of battle! Rise up and let your wrath shake the foundations of heaven and earth!"

"FORMATIONS," Ramius roars, "ADVANCE! SKIRMISHERS, JAVELINS AND BOLTS UPON THE FIRST ENEMY ADVANCE! RETREAT TO FORM SHIELD-WALL WITH PIKE, GUN AND CROSSBOW ONCE YOUR JAVELINS ARE LOOSED!" He turns, gesturing to the bowmen in the rear. "ARCHERS, FILL THE SKY. HARROW THEIR REAR AND CORE. CANNONS!" To the artillery, now. "ROUND SHOT, AIM FOR THE CENTER OF THE ENEMY SQUARES!"

"CAVALRY," he looks to Zayne, "Make sure they don't leave our killing field."

"When they turn to attack you, retreat behind our lines, regroup and proceed again," Ramius advises the other former lord. "We will be your shield, so make sure of your charges before you make them. Strike decisively."

<Pose Tracker> Zayne has posed. They're speaking common.

Zayne nods from atop his horse and gallops off to join the group of calvary he is leading. L'artiglio is loosed from its sheath and Rage stomps his feet as the lord trots him up to stand front and center with his men on horse back. "You heard him boys. Our job is to hit the flanks, drive them away from the seige equipment and keep them disorganized. I want you scattered in small groups and fast! Sow chaos, knock men down, cut them and trample them! Hit them hard and fast and get back before they can knock you down! Now if we lose this its not just us that lose. Our families, our homes, its all gone if we fail but we won't fail you hear me! There is nothing we cannot do if we put our mind to it, so lets go show these guys why you don't mess with the Black Bears! On my word.." He waits a moment eyeing the enemy formation for what looks like the best opening. Then he gives the signal. "Forward!" And the calvary charges Zayne leading the group in a blur of black, glittering lightsilver greatsword shining like a beacon before he brings it down on the nearest enemy.

<Pose Tracker> Havelock has posed. They're speaking Common.

Upon reaching the ranks of soldiers, Havelock dismounts and allows his horse to be lead away from the carnage that is about to happen. Standing at the fore, showing the White Cross, the Holy Knight makes ready to traverse the battlefield on foot alongside those who are destined to clash with the supposedly Royalist forces. Judgement is drawn and Havelock grasps the inner banding of his shield within his other hand, though his visor remains up for the moment, the fully armoured knight charges alongside the footsoldiers as the orders are given. Armour clanking, the steady thud of feet, the cries, the snarls and prayers! Despite his concerns, fighting for a Baron was one thing, a self-proclaimed barbarian King is another, but thankfully their goal is the same for now!

And slamming into the enemy, Havelock knocks down his visor and clashes, shoved from behind as the two walls of meat collide, blows are exchanged and fail to meet their mark.
@emit With Ardaigh bouncing at her hip in its sheath, Myrana draws out one of her hand cannons and loads it with shot as Ramius bellows orders, lengthening her stride almost to a jog in order to keep up with his long legs. Clearly, she means to stick with him as a sort of murderous aide-de-camp.
<Pose Tracker> Myrana has posed. They're speaking Common.

With Ardaigh bouncing at her hip in its sheath, Myrana draws out one of her hand cannons and loads it with shot as Ramius bellows orders, lengthening her stride almost to a jog in order to keep up with his long legs. Clearly, she means to stick with him as a sort of murderous aide-de-camp.
<Pose Tracker> Tavi has posed. They're speaking Common.

Lines set, and the air between the two forces, one of the Mountain and one of Aequor, appears to visibly chake with the raw emotion of battle. Suddenly, somebody roars: "FIRE!" and cannons errupt while the trebuchets and Carroballista fire. The infantries on both side surge forward. Snow begins to fall harder, as if the One or some ancient god of the land lends their fury to the fight.

The d'Arran infantry closes with the pike, and suddenly the click click of the scorpians is heard and infantry are slammed into by repeating bolts. Somebody, some sergeant likely cries: "SHIELDS UP BOYS!" and the stuckato screams are mostly replaced with thuds as the metal tipped bolts rip into shields. It slows the d'Arran advance, but it gives them an edge as well. With shields in place, the Pike slam into that, and the melee begins in earnest.

As Zayne and his men wheel to ride in, a cannon slams into the frozen earth sending a spray of frozen mud, and rock and ice killing a horse outright and maiming a few others. Horses scream, and through the mist created by that explosion, red covered horses ride, like the One's own personal warmchine, and the Cavlary slams into each other. Wheeling, slashing, kicking. They battle for control of a flank.

Archers and Long Cannon let loose on both sides, as do the Cannon brought by the d'Armaz. The field quickly becoming a blizzard with cloads of powder smoke drifting through the field. A flash, then a roar. Thunder and snow. Occassional sprays of red. The plains before Lyioness have become a nightmare of chaos as both commanders have managed to perfectly prepdict the other, and mire their forces ina slug fest.

<Pose Tracker> Zayne has posed. They're speaking common.

Zayne urges Rage forward, the black beasts mane catching in the freezing wind as he and his rider move to clash with the enemy. That shimmering lightsilver blade draws blood for the first time in this battle as Zayne cuts a man clean off his horse. The riders under the d'Rana's command try and bait the enemy calvary, engaging and then drawing them away from the main force as they fight. Hopefully making them easier targets for the Thornesman and rebel archers.

<Pose Tracker> Havelock has posed. They're speaking Common.

Havelock is sure he can still hear the deadly whoosh of long cannon fire, a few shots having felled those beside him as he charged across the field. As ever clad in red and realising that it is indeed a most eye-catching colour, a fact that warrants the faintest of panicked smirks as he lashes out with his shield, pushing aside a pike or seeking to thrust his blade deep into the enemy before him. With the acrid stench of long cannon fire and the muffled steam of his own breath within his closed helm, Havelock's world is a mere slit of light before him, glimpses and flashes hacked and thrust at, while sweat drizzles down his brow, threatening to blind him as he lays about those before him, "For the One! Free Rikton from evil! Free Aequor!" In his head those words sound great, but against a helm and in the press of battle, they are perhaps a tad breathy!

<Pose Tracker> Myrana has posed. They're speaking Common.

Helping as she can from her vantage point (half standing atop her horse), Myrana keeps her glass extended and points as she sees openings that Ramius might have missed. Fighting on the Plains is not the strength of the D'Armaz style, but she knows her Thornesmen and cavalry; she knows what her father's forces can do.
<Pose Tracker> Ramius has posed. They're speaking Common.

The guns fire! The cannons fire! Everything is fire and smoke and thunder! "I suppose it would have been too much to ask for a repeat of our last battle," Ramius asides to his nearest aides, one of whom is Myrana d'Armaz herself, one of the primary beneficiaries to that skirmish. "I believe we will likely require something of a gambit here to tip the scales."

Ramius thinks for a moment. In this melee, firing cannon is a risky proposition at best, and yet it's also their best trump card. But to avoid hitting their own men… "Myrana, you know them better than I. Do you think we could angle the cannons up slightly? Arc the shots down into the enemy squares. It may give us the breathing room we need to press the advantage."

<Pose Tracker> Myrana has posed. They're speaking Common.

Myrana looks at Ramius, then sights down the partharian glass again. "The pennants there are nearly taut— yes. Move them three yards and angle them into the wind so they're not blown aside."

<Pose Tracker> Ramius has posed. They're speaking Common.

Ramius nods, then turns to his gunners. "You heard the lady! Angle the guns and fire where the enemy is at its thickest!"

<Pose Tracker> Tavi has posed. They're speaking Common.

The cannons of the d'Arran sound again, adding their own thunder to the fight taking place. The trick with the angle, the wind, and the artillary officer adding a little less charge causes the cannons to do just what the commander ordered. Ten round shot fly over the heads of the friendly infantry by mere feet, causing the wind to howl as they sail by, and then slam thirty yards into the enemy squares. The round shots bound, and roll, slide and shatter, each action removing limbs, heads, or sending deadly detritus through exposed flesh severing arteries and ending lives in a gory blood bath.

With the chaos happening behidn them, the front ranks of some of the enemy units begin to falter in the chaos, and the d'Arran begin to wedge in, plintering pikes, bones and rending flesh. The Cavalry, inspired by their leader's massive gore covered sword press forward, routing one group of the enemy cavalry, and finding themselves slamming into another. Horses cry, and men scream. Hand Cannons go off.

The enemy is not to be out done though, as their artillary is not silent. Cannons fire toward the d'Arran cannon, and the carroballista let loose as well. One of the massive Carro bolts finds one of Zayne's men's horses, the shot throwing the man from the saddle as the bolt throws the horse ten feet to the side. He has time to look up, dazed befor the carro explodes and takes his life, as well as the life of three other riders. Rock, snow and gore trickle down from the sky adding their own rain to the blizzard of snow going on

<Pose Tracker> Havelock has posed. They're speaking Common.

Havelock manages to fell a couple of men, allowing him to press forward a scant inch, just as whatever gap was made is soon filled by others who seem to think they're fighting for King and Queen and Country also. The Reliant's bloodied blade scrapes against armour as much as it pierces and gouges flesh, wielded with a certain fire as the Holy Knight fiercely lays into the enemy.

<Pose Tracker> Zayne has posed. They're speaking common.

Covered in blood and gore Zayne still refuses to stop. He charges forward trying to draw the next group of enemies right into the line of thier own seige weapons. He keeps moving, his men riding in and attacking just enough the draw out their opponets into the open field where they can be easily cut down. Then they ride back in, paying attention to the flanks they disrupt them wherever they can trying to make them drift to the side and into the range of their own artillery. Zayne cuts down yet another man and the screams of his men only seem to further his determination. He rides on slicing furiously at the enemy anywhere he can catch them.

<Pose Tracker> Myrana has posed. They're speaking Common.

"Should we fold in to surround them?" Myrana mumurs to herself, looking out through the glass and watching the wind through the medium of the pennants on both sides of the battle. She is, effectively, a naval commander much more than a soldier. Land battles are the worst; nothing sinks.

<Pose Tracker> Ramius has posed. They're speaking Common.

The cannonfire is a rousing success. Ramius fights back the urge to grin at the spraying gore and turning white flakes blood red as the flurry builds over the battlefield. It's snowing. Ramius glances vaguely upward as the sky opens up. "An omen?" he murmurs. There is no thunder, but… In terms of reading the wind…

"The enemy artillery is firing upon our guns. Likely trying to draw fire away from the infantry. Fine." He nods his head again towards Myrana. "I was thinking the same. Give the word for Lord Zayne and the light cavalry to begin harassing closer to the enemy artillery. We need to start pressuring their guns if we're to keep them off our own."

Pose Tracker> Myrana has posed. They're speaking Common.

Myrana looks at Ramius and a bit of a smile tugs at her lips. "Father Havelock believes God is with us," she shifts her foot where it rests atop the saddle, even as the other is still firmly in the one stirrup; the Tarris warhorse stands like it was built out of stone, only nosing at the snow in a sort of grim opportunism. The snowflakes settle on her head and shoulders, becoming invisible in the former case and peppering her dark shoulders with flowers in the latter. "What kind of omen do you expect to see?"

<Pose Tracker> Ramius has posed. They're speaking Common.

"In the north, a storm in the midst of a battle is said to be a sign that a spirit is watching," Ramius explains when Myrana asks. He sniffs the air, taking in the scent of gunpowder, stubbornly clinging close to the ground in the cold winter air. "I cannot say for certain what manner of spirit it is, but I am hopeful none-the-less. If it is indeed the One, then let us hope our cause truly is righteous."

<Pose Tracker> Tavi has posed. They're speaking Common.

Zayne's Cavlary slams into the other cavalry unit, and after a few long heartpounding minutes the enemy is routed again. Two units of cavalry routed. The d'Rana force is battered, but is still standing. Atop his horse he ahs a moment to both catch his breath and see the battlefield. Infnatry pressing, hacking and slashing, the sound of armor being rent and crashing into shields or weapons. Shields splintering. The screams. The screams fo the dead and the sying, of the hurt. The cries for mothers or loved ones. The smoke swirling in the blizzard form the small fires, that despite the snow have started from the Carroballista shots. The smell of the acrid powder, and of burned flesh. The copper smell of blood. Of death.

Havelock's group manages to cut down the entire Pikeman unit they were battling, many men catching their breath in this an unexpected reprieve in the battle. Around them men continue to fight. To die. Before them a unit of Pike men, a reserve perhaps, level pikes and begin to advance on them in lockstep. Between the two groups a cannon ball falls and explodes. But behind those pikes, three carts wheel into place, and let loose a terrific volley of bolts. Oncce again forcing the men in Havelock's unit to hide behidn shields even as others are cut down.

The battle has gone from a slug fest to going well for the Arrani and their allies. Cavalry still swirls, the Thornsmen fire their long cannons at range, sniping targets, especially officers and sergeants. But the enemy si far form done. THe d'Kemp forces begin to march in. The front rank kneels and the rank behind let's loose a volley of crossbow bolts. As that front rank stands, the second rank replaces themselves with the third who wield fresh crossbows, and they fire. The d'Kemp forces advancing as such, each volley relieving a beleaguered Pike Rank, even as the Long Cannons return fire as well in massed volley rank.

<Pose Tracker> Myrana has posed. They're speaking Common.

Myrana takes a freezing breath and lets it out as a cloud. "…Ramius, did you know that Cardinal Ramius put out a hunt for the prince's amulet?" She keeps her gaze moving, watching the battlefield only to glance over at the Arrani. "He says it can bring back the dead in the hands of a saint, if it's reunited with the sword. And Cardinal Ramius has the sword." She turns the eye of the partharian glass, her own personal lens in its beautiful case of tooled leather. The little lightsilver pendant hanging at her throat jingles beneath the loops of her heavy scarf. "I believe the Prince may be chosen by God, as he's healed with it, and that's certainly a miracle…." She grimaces as an officer she was watching has his head blown apart by one of her Thornesmen. "And the Cardinal wants to repossess it for the church and join it with the sword. Scholars considered the blade lost, and suddenly here is his Holiness producing it out of the blue." She lowers the glass just for a moment to recover." What is this, a confession? Myrana has many secrets, and collects information like jewels. Both of those collections of hers are pretty incredible, really."

<Pose Tracker> Havelock has posed. They're speaking Common.

Lifting his visor, any rest is short-lived for Havelock as he gasps for air and staggers forward a step. The brief respite is anything but as the cry goes up regarding the renewed assault and Havelock leans in toward the enemy and raises his battered shield, some others aren't so fortunate. The bolts slam crack and punch through shields and men alike and Havelock for his part, raises his blade aloft and with his shield still offering some modicum of protection, even though the White Cross painted upon it is a splinted mess of paint and wood, and advances towards the enemy, the only safe place to be considering, "Onward!"

<Pose Tracker> Havelock has posed. They're speaking Common.

Admittedly, the explosions that shower Havelock with as much dirt as they do gore do give him and those about him cause to pause, but onwards all the same! Given the hail of bolts.

<Pose Tracker> Zayne has posed. They're speaking common.

Zayne pauses a moment atop his horse watching the dead and the dying after driving the last of the enemy off. Some of his men are among that number. He doesn't linger long however but instead he spies another focus for his group. "Come on men, we're doing good but now we've got to slow down the artillery. Spread out and go as fast as you can till you get in close where their range is useless, don't make big targets and hit them hard! Now lets do this!" He charges forward leading his men as they spread out and advance on the siege weapons.

<Pose Tracker> Ramius has posed. They're speaking Common.

Ramius goes silent when Myrana speaks. A miraculous amulet? A sword which, if the proper measures are taken, can raise the dead? He turns his eyes towards the battlefield, as if the roil of combat, the battlecries and the dying groans were to somehow help him clear his thoughts. "I do not know anything of God," Ramius says, then. "Or his methods, though I believe them by and large to be righteous. But I do know that the raising of the dead is not something taken lightly. Myrana, when a soul leaves the body, it goes to wherever awaits it next, yes? If a body is returned to life, would that not also mean retrieving the soul?"

"And if the soul is not returned," he frowns, brow furrowing, "What then is the body?"

No. He can focus on such things later. The enemy is using a rotating firing line of crossbowmen. Efficient. Deadly. Ramius has seen such things before. "Heavy shields, act as bulwarks to the gunners and crossbowmen. Archers, target their bowmen and disrupt their line. The more we kill, the less efficient their technique becomes. Shoot with lethal intent!"

<Pose Tracker> Tavi has posed. They're speaking Common.

Soon, someone will write of this battle. They will tell of heroism, they will tell fo glory, they will tell the tale of the Last battle of the Kings Under The Mountain, regardless if they succede or not. But one of the things they will tell, is the poem of the Charging Bears.

Half a league, half a league,
Half a league onward,
All in the valley of Death
Rode the Bears. "Forward, the Bears!
"Charge for the guns!" he said:
Into the valley of Death
Rode the Bears.

The Cannons. The Carroballistas. They turn and align themselves on the Cavlary that has proved oh so effective. As one, the fire. Massive Spear sized explosive bolts, Roundshot, and grape. They let loose in fire and death.

"Forward, the Bears! Forward for One and King!"
Was there a man dismay'd?
Not tho' the soldier knew
Someone had blunder'd:
Theirs not to make reply,
Theirs not to reason why,
Theirs but to do and die: //
Into the valley of Death
Rode the Bears of Armaz.//

For the first cavalry charge had been to place them, and their retreat calculated. The second? Byt a fresh unit, to angle them, to get them into place. Zayne, and his cavalry were in palce, and those guns roared, and the Carros flew….

Cannon to right of them,
Cannon to left of them,
Carro in front of them
Volley'd and thunder'd;
Storm'd at with shot and Bolt,
Boldly they rode and well,
Into the jaws of Death,
Into the mouth of Hell
Rode the Bears.

The Cavalry, despite their good order, makes it half way there. Horses torn, armor rendered useless. Men don't even get a chance to scream. Smoke. So much smoke. Something wetly slaps Zayne, coats him. His horse rears. More thunder ….

Flash'd all their sabres bare,
Flash'd as they turn'd in air,
Sabring the gunners there,
Charging an army, while
All the world wonder'd://
Plunged in the battery-smoke
Right thro' the line they broke;"

Cardnial's men, the pride and defense of Lyioness,
Reel'd from the sabre stroke
Shatter'd and sunder'd.
Then they rode back, but not
Not all the Bears…

Zayne's horse dies, but the mighty Equine's death saves Zayne, for the Grapeshot that would have shredded him is instead taken and deflected by flesh and bone of his stead. He finds himself falling into a warm wetness. More thunder, and screams. The world ringing, and unpleasant. His head throbbing ans pulsing split to burst. But through his men, his brave men are scattered or killed. The guns are silent. The gunners fled or dead. The field covered in the red of his, and the Cardinal's men …

The Infantry clash again near Havelock, pikes slamming and blades slashing. Somebody near Havelock falls and reaches for the healer, the doctor, crying "FATHER!" Before he is lost in the press of the battle.

To Ramius, it looks like Hell ahs arrived. Zayne did as ordered but d'Kemp predicted it. When? How? Who knows. What didn't work in the enemy General's favor was the skill, the trianing, and the Tenacity of the Bears. What Ramius knows is, those cannon, those Carrobalista are now silent. Now it is only the Trebuchets, and the enemy ranged troops. What he doens't know is if Zayne is still alive, or if in that red mist, swirled with wuite, if one fo the shadowy figures

What he doens't know is if Zayne is still alive, or if in that red mist, swirled with wuite, if one fo the shadowy figures staggering is Lord Zayne d'Rana …

<Pose Tracker> Myrana has posed. They're speaking Common.

Myrana's boot nearly slips where its braced against her saddle, swallowing hard as she scans the wreckage of the D'Rana cavalry. Under her breath there's a litany of cursing as she scans for Zayne. "The Carroballista are overrun," she says, glass swinging slowly east and a chill racing up her back. Snow is piling on her now, and she regrets not having a hood up, but she can't break her focus on the battle.

<Pose Tracker> Havelock has posed. They're speaking Common.

Havelock briefly catches the call, though what little chance he had to react is lost as he and the men about him collide once more with the freshly advancing enemy. More death and many a scream amidst the slaughter as Havelock's bloodied and dirt splattered self slams once again into the fray. His bolt splintered shield pushed against one, while he seeks to thrust Judgement into another. The red-clad Reliant as ever at the fore!

<Pose Tracker> Ramius has posed. They're speaking Common.

The carrobalista and cannons are silent. But at what cost? Ramius stands in quiet, perhaps even chilly observance as he lays witness to the charge and the breaking of the bear. His move was anticipated? The former Baron's brow furrows. He was anticipated, but Zayne may have succeeded regardless, that terrifying bastard.

"The right flank has weakened without the support of its artillery," Ramius says. "Move the reserves to press in and concentrate the enemy towards the Scorpians. The denser their formation, the easier our cannons can pick them apart. Ideally, I would like those weapons intact, but locating Zayne is our objective as well."

<Pose Tracker> Zayne has posed. They're speaking common.

Its all Zayne can do to keep ahold of his blade. Sinking in a mass of red it takes a moment until he manages to pull himself upwards. Disoriented and unsteady it takes a while for him to take note of the fact that it was the remains of his horse he had been swimming in. He shakes his head, red droplets falling onto the already bloodstained ground as he stands still trying to regain his bearings and his breath. He can barely see in the smoke and once the seige equipment coment into view he starts over that way, determined to make certain his task is finished.

<Pose Tracker> Tavi has posed. They're speaking Common.

The Infantry has some life in it yet, as the enemy presses into the Arrani forces and nearly routes the unit Havelock is with. Men scream as Pikes find their way past shields, or the Scorpians hit exposed back ranks, many of them in the head. Blood flows and men die, but still the Arrani and their allies hold their ground.

Zayne, bloody, weary, and likely seriously concussed finds his way to a Carrobalista along with his surviving Cavalry men. Many of them look as bloody he, and one of them barely has his left eye, which is dangling from the socket. Between them they load the Carrobalista and move it into position. The dangle eye slaps ayne and points.

Lord Richard d'Kemp sits on his horse directing the battle. He, and his cavalry unit are jsut sitting ducks. Waiting, unknowing that the enemy Artillery si now in their enemy's hands. He gives a bloodied tooth grin. "Wanna REALLY fuck up these assholes?"

Ramius's artillery slams into the massed rnaks of troops, and kill many more. The Infantry march and wheel and flank. While the battle is far form over, it does at present look to be going completely in the Arrani's favor.

<Pose Tracker> Myrana has posed. They're speaking Common.

"Ah! He's alive!" Myrana pumps her fist once in a tight little 'yeah!' that can't get mistaken for a signal. As she roves the glass over the field, she gasps: "Ramius! D'Kemp's cavalry unit is open! They haven't seen it yet!"

<Pose Tracker> Havelock has posed. They're speaking Common.

As those damned pike impale many and drive a good many more back, Havelock himself feels a sudden painful jarring as his helm is twisted about sharply, his feet slip and slide in the gore soaked earth and another blow sends the Reliant to the ground. For a few seconds all is darkness till he casts aside his shield and rights his battered helm, kicking out at one enemy and lashing at another, it takes all of his strength to force himself back to his feet. Shakily at that. With blood pouring freely within his helm, the Penitent snarls bloodily and lashes out once more in an effort to give succor to the bloodied and battered men about him.

<Pose Tracker> Myrana has posed. They're speaking Common.

Myrana lowers the glass and whips around to look at the ex-Baron like she's about to ask for leave to ride out with her long cannon like one of her Thornesmen, realizes halfway through the action that that would be really dumb, and sort of grips the glass's leather casement. "Damnit!" She looks back through it again. Command is fine but… but OHH she'd like to kill Richard D'Kemp!

<Pose Tracker> Ramius has posed. They're speaking Common.

"They don't see—-" Ramius' eyes go wide. His lips curl into a wicked grin. "Good! GOOD! We'll provide as mighty of a distraction as we are able. Keep those cannons firing! Hold the line until that bastard is face-down in the dirt!" He glances towards Myrana, then frowns. "Now, now Myrana. We'll be needed for the next phase of this whole mess. Remember beating these bastards black and blue is only the first step."

<Pose Tracker> Myrana has posed. They're speaking Common.

Myrana grumbles under her breath. The little D'Armaz is definitely too hasty to be a truly great commander. Also, understandably, violence-loving. She's her father's daughter.

<Pose Tracker> Tavi has posed. They're speaking Common.

Richard d'Kemp, Lord of Hosue d'Kemp frowns when he hears the runner. "What in the One's blue balls do you mean they've silenced our Artillery? I hear the Carroballista firing no-" It's all he gets a chance to say. The Bolts slam into his command unit, the five on armored horseback who ahd rode to deliver "terms" to Ramius and company. The resulting explosions of the mixed chemicals that collaide and react upon impact is deafening.

And messy.

All five of the Cardinal's guard and House d'Kemp's commanding nobility die ina shrapnel, and fire filled explosion. Richard survies the explosion but breaks his neck when his Horse rears and throws him to the ground.

The shot, form their own lines is just what was needed, as the Arrani forces push and batter their way into and through teh lines of the enemy. Many turn to run, but not half a league from the City gates the walls many, many mounted Scorpians turn and face the fleeing two thousand men who ahd thought to find safety and regroup. A man on a horseback stands before the gate, which opens to reveal hundreds of men in blue half-cloaks. The man in the front, tips his hat slightly. "I think you gentlemen will want to be turning around and surrender to the good King of the Mountain out there. I mean. How often do you get to surrender a man who is king for a day?" He winks and says ina commanding voice, "Gentlemen. If these idiots try to run another direction, level em with the Scorpians."

To Ramius and Myrana, they see the enemy army turn tail and run. THose that can. Another thousand or so surrender quickly. They cna take these men prisoner, or run after the ones trying to flee, liekly they'd end up fighting the thousand. The officers below make quick decisions, having been trained by one of the best, and knwoing what is best. A sergeant moves behind to explain, and to give battle reports to his /King/.

To Zayne and Havelock, down in front, the enemy turns and all they see is assholes and elbows as the enemy routes so completely but stops at the gate of the city.

<Pose Tracker> Havelock has posed. They're speaking Common.

Havelock lets a somewhat muted roar tumble past his lips before simply slumping to his knees, one hand clutching the hilt of Judgement, the blade sinking into the dirt as it remains vertical. While Havelock remains partially vertical. Kneeling, bleeding, and watching the enemy rout through blood clouded eyes.

<Pose Tracker> Myrana has posed. They're speaking Common.

Up in the saddle, Myrana breathes a long sigh of relief, having been holding her breath. "Ahaha… ah, there they are." The cavaliers. Hearts and barfy rainbows She lowers her glass and gets that misty look that pretty much says 'this is getting in my terrible friendfiction that definitely nobody knows about' before shaking her head and sitting back down with a clank of her brigadine and a big grin. Since she's for once a little like the same height, she leans over and kisses Ramius with triumphant jubilance on the cheek before finally giving in and riding on down to join with her Thornesmen and make sure healers are getting to the worst parts of the carnage.

<Pose Tracker> Zayne has posed. They're speaking common.

As the army retreats Zayne starts heading towards where the carrobalista exploded. He is a man on a mission, coated in red and carrying that massive lightsilver blade that still manages to shint and glimmer in places. He wades through the mass of dead bodies with a rather scary expression, if the enemy wasn't already fleeing they might still think twice about facing The Red Bear. Zayne walks right up to the corpse of Richard d'Kemp and in one clean blow severs his head and lifts it off the ground. He wipes his lightsilver blade on the mans cloak and sheaths it before starting over towards Myrana and Ramius.

It takes a while for him to get there but finally he stumbles up to Myrana and offers her the severed head. "I brought you a present…my future countess." He smiles rather dazedly looking like he might very well have taken a few nasty hits to the head.

<Pose Tracker> Myrana has posed. They're speaking Common.

Myrana's horse gets about three feet away when Zayne appears, on foot and bearing Richard's head. She does a doubletake, for up close its clear that Zayne had a man burst on either side of him and a horse die out from under him. But she sees the head, and with a flicker in her blue eyes, she reaches out and takes the dead man's head by the hair. It rests against her skirts atop one leg and lolls gruesomely as she turns Sage. But what she says is: "Good job, Zayne D'Rana." And points with her chin. "Go see Mistress Girei for further instructions."

<Pose Tracker> Zayne has posed. They're speaking common.

"Mistress Girei? But what about a bath..and a nap?" Zayne shakes his head a bit and sighs before bowing a bit unsteadily. "As you wish my Lady." And off he goes unknowingly to the doom that is a healer. Maybe this Girei will let him bathe?

Pose Tracker> Ramius has posed. They're speaking Common.

Perhaps this victory was not so great as the one that liberated Fiorello. Perhaps the win was not so one-sided. Perhaps it did cost far more in the way of human lives, and resulted in the death of many of his people— and those of Zayne's and Myrana's houses as well. But at the same time, it IS victory. One won with blood and sacrifice in equal portion to valor and daring, but victory none-the-less.

Bards will probably tell stories about it for years. Of the day the Bear swallowed the Sword, of when the River and Mountain joined beneath the banner of the One Day King and his One Day Queen. For Ramius' own part, he stands and salutes with his family's famous blade as the enemy is decapitated, its forces routed. "Myrana," Ramius says, smiling, "I do believe we made history today."

You know, if she was listening.

Considering she's presently gushing over a bunch of other men in blue cloaks, she's probably not.

Ramius chuckles and shakes his head. HE GOT A KISS AT LEAST, SO THAT'S GOOD. "Harry the cowardly dogs with arrows, but do not pursue. Capture those who have surrendered their arms! Claim their arms and armor, but do not harm them. We will decide what is to be their fate AFTER we finish this." He turns to Zayne as he arrives and clasps the man on the shoulder, "Well done. You saved hundreds of lives today, Zayne. Cutting off the enemy's head has spared the rest of the body from the sword. Go get cleaned up, we'll have use for you soon."

0"Someone get me status on the Reliant," Ramius says, then, and grins at his sergeant's approach, even as Myrana bolts off to assist the healers. "It seems like we've survived another, old friend. But the day's not over yet. Make sure the wounded are treated and gather the bodies. Until we secure the castle, we yet have work to do."

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