(1868-04-10) The Wall
The Wall
Summary: The Arrani Legion attacks d'Kemp's wall in an effort to further their invasion.
Date: 10 Avril 1868 IE
Related: Letter to al'Ramar, Spring Thaw's March
NPCs: {$npc}
Players:
Caele  Dario  Havelock  Jarret  Myrana  Ramius  Thomas  Zayne  

Mouth of the d'Kemp valley
A large stone wall has been erected at the mouth of House d'Kemp's valley fief, staffed with soldiers and artillery both. It is an obstacle that must be overcome in order for the Aequorian army to proceed further on.
10 Avril, 1868 IE

The d'Arran Legion had made camp for days, a neat and orderly affair divided by whose command one was in. As the word spread of the King's order, the legion made ready. Armor was checked, weapons were sharpened, and coucnils were had with the officers of the Legion. Plans are made, and troops are organized for the inevitability of battle. Despite this organization and the tension no attacks are made on the first day.

Instead, as night falls, men quietly move into position. Supervised by the 14th's Engineer Centurian the Legion builds artillery fortifications and moves them into place. Using the men of the legion for fast work, by the time the morning sun has vanished the pale light of Winter and Summer moon, the legion has set up earthen and wood fortifications to resist the wall's own substantial artillery, as well as have buklwarks in place for the Legion's. Once the sun crests the eastern cliff, the 14th's Centurian cries; "FIRE!" and the war of the West begins.

For Three days the cannons and Ballista of the Legion fire, while the Scorpians, cannons and trebuchets of the d'Kemp Wall return fire. Day and night, explosions, the whistling of rock and shell as they pass through the air. The unerving crack of rounds hitting stone or the wet thud of rounds slamming into the legion's bulwarks fill the air.

Three days this continues. Three long, and nearly sleepless nights of continual siege warfare. Men are killed on both sides. It is inevitable. Killed, wounded, or maimed as cannon shot, scorpian bolt, ballista bolt, or trebuchet comes close or finds a target.

As the fusilade between the two forces continues on the third day, there is an ear splitting CRACK from the wall, just ot the left of the gate. Then a resounding THOOM as sappers blow carges near the crack. There is a cloud of dust and debris, and the shooting stops as the pass appears to hold its breath.

There, just to the Legion's left of the gate, a rubble strewn breach. Perilous to climb, but a breach. Orders can be heard form atop the wall in Imperial Common, "SEAL THAT BREACH!" and men hasten into position before specially made ballista bolts fire with the Bishop Dario's flash powder concoction. They slam into the breach and around it creating a massive smoke screen, filling the pass with artificial smoke and powder smoke.

Now, the order only need be given, and the selected forces will move in to take the breach, and hopefully, the One willing, break through.

Caele rolls his shoulder. He looks to those around him, his brothers and sisters in the Order. Not all of them Knights, but all of them dedicated to the order. He nods once and whispers a word of scripture for encouragement. Finally he says to the Biship Dario, "Your Eminence. Before we march into the jaws of the Abyss, perhaps a word form your holliness will bolster their spirits?"

Having arrived a couple of days earlier with a few hundred good men of the Reliant Order, everyone's beloved murderer and heretic, one Doctor Synn, or Sir Havelock to his friends stands ready beside Caele. As ever clad in the red of his Order, bedecked with the White Cross of the Reliants, coupled with the laurel-bestowed helm, Sir Havelock cuts the usual figure, brawny and heavily armoured! Bopping Caele on the arm with a gauntlet-clad fist, Havelock of the Asscoin grins somewhat crookedly as he watches the breach crumble into being, "The One be praised!" Oh wait, Caele's words draw attention to a Bishop! Havelock lowers his head slightly out of respect, "Your Eminence."

Dario is standing dressed in his brigandine armor with his two hand cannons sheathed at his belt. The Bishop's golden holy symbol glitters in the afternoon light. The words from Caele draw those dark eyes to the man and Dario seems to consider the man and finally smiles faintly. "I shall do my best to raise thier spirits then, its been quite a while since I've given a speech." He strides to the front of the group turning to face the men with a look of calm respect directed at the group as a whole. "The One is with us and we fight in His name. For Our God is a just God and he will guide us, for he knows each of our hearts and our worth. He will be your strength the cause that all men can rally behind. We don't fight as one Kingdom here today…we fight as one, one army for the One God and it is in his name that we will end this war and seek to restore order and peace! May the One Bless each of you here today and I will pray for all of our souls, for be you noble or common, Aequorian or Galenthian, all who seek it shall have a place in the One's Kingdom. Amen." He bows his head and then moves aside to let the commanders give thier orders.

Since the writ dropped, so to speak, and war was declared on 07 Avril 1868 IE, Baron Thomas Chandus has been taking care of much of the nitty gritty administration and running of camp, as Baron Ramius's adjutant, and ensuring that the Army was prepared to fight. This meant many long nights of ensuring that field fortifications were first dug, then maintained during the artillery duel, and that the troops had marshalled themselves and their supplies, ready to move as soon as the breach was affected. This also gave Baron Ramius a chance to decide on his strategy and freed him up for more important duties.

Now that the wall is breached and the smoke screen laid out, Baron Thomas Chandus, adjutant to his army and Brigadier of the Galenthian force is fully clad in his banded metal lorrica armour, surrounded by a picked platoon of Sun Shield Guards and other Chandus troops. Their sun in splendor on cobalt field standard flaps next to the fighting rooster of the Royal Knights of the Burnished Spurs, who are fallen in and ready for battle, their pikes waving in the air, long cannons shouldered but ready for deployment and knights ahorse, ready to push through the breach at any potential breakthrough. Baron Thomas maintains a presence towards the rear of the Aequorian legion. He intends to help the General control the flow of battle by directing reserves where they may be needed and keep control of their flanks and rear.

On Dario's prayer, Thomas dips his head and appears to pray earnestly and fervently. He raises it once the Bishop is done. "Thank you, Excellency, and One be with you." A wan smile accompanies these words.

Zayne has been restless these past three days. So when the wall finally does crack the commander of the Black Bears wastes no time finishing preparing his men for the upcoming assault. His lightsilver greatsword L'artiglio is sheathed in its place over his smoke grey brigadine armor. The giant d'Rana strides through the camp with purpose going to get his orders. He is obviously eager to get into battle and he pays little heed to prayers save to frown faintly and shake his head in exhasperation.

Turning a tight circle on the ground as the breach crumbles into being like a chasm between the sky that side of the wall and this, the full skirts of Myra's brigadine coat clank as she takes a quick look back at her Thornesmen, white braid swinging behind her and Ouros, the brindle Elementi, barking excitedly at the same level as her elbow.

"Pick off any you see peeling away from the main force," she tells her captain, one of her countless bastard siblings, a woman as lean and brown as a beach pine. "And be ready."

But she remains with the command forces, where it is regrettably further from the front heat. For now.

Having been in relatively good spirits since all this happened, Jarret has placed himself near the front, with the Galenthian pikemen, that he is leading. Smiling momentarily as he sees the breach, he waits for the order to move forward, ready to start moving when the order is given. "A fine day…" he remarks to nobody in particular.

Dario discretely moves to join the gunmen who have lined themselves up and are preparing for the battle. His two hand cannons are drawn and prepared for battle his gaze trained on the breach in the wall as he readies himself and prepares to aim and fire at whoever decides to challenge him.

Zayne's men move into position thier leader standing near the front of them. That giant glittering blade is unsheathed with the sound of shifting metal and Zayne grins wickedly as he plants his feet and adopts an aggressive stance, readying himself for the charge that will take him into battle. The battle that he has been waiting three days for.

"Of course they'd put us on the downslope," Myrana is muttering to herself, dissatisfied with being at the back of everything and looking through a very fine brass telescope worked with cloisonned roses in a riot of red and white and green. It swings this way and that as she surveys the battle sweeping up toward the breach. And of course they'd build the wall at the top of a slope. That's just common sense. But in THIS case, obviously, it constitutes a basic breach of decency, along with 'being traitors' and 'calling perfectly loyal and ready persons hidey cowards'. Three days of little sleep and ringing ears hasn't improved her mood much after the insults to the crown and herself by Kemp.

"For Aequor! Down with the Puppets of Kentaire! The Reliants are with you every step of the way!", Havelock shouts, given the One has already been praised and he was made a Blue Cavalier several days previous, his sidhe steel blade held aloft as he stands ready to charge amongst that first Aequorian wave. Grinding his spurred boots into the ground, the Reliant grins across at Caele, "I'll see you on the other side of that wall Brother Caele."

Caele makes the sign of the one over his heart as Dario finished his prayer. Then he gives Havelock a thump on the shoulder. "The One will see us through brother! That and your sword arm." He gives the man awink and settles his helm on his head. When the order comes down, he rolls his shoulder, nods, and then cries, "FOR THE ONE!"

The men around cheer, and bolstered by Dario's words, and the xcitement of battle, the breaching force surges into the smokescreen.

It is hard to see and nearly harder to breath. People are advised to wear a damp cloth over their mouth, as it will keep the dust, debris and acrid smoke form the lungs. It is still hard going, but eventually, a slight hill, and then, the rubble of the breach. Horses have no way through this, as the debris would simply break their legs, but men, the men breaching, they do just fine.

Scorpians from above fire blindly into the smokescreen, making the advance frightening as men scream when hit, or a bolt whistles past a head. Shields are thudded into, and sometimes people find themselves tripping over bolts in the ground, fired blindly. Or the person in front of them.

When they finally break through, there is a line of Kentaire Legionaires. A man barks an order in Imperial Common, and the Legion slams their shields together creating an almost impenitrable wall of metal and blades.

The two forces slam into each other, screaming and crashing ina thunder that is frightening. Just before the impact men in a second rank let loose with the tunder of Hand Cannons. Many and more are felled, as the smoke form this, and the alchemical mist drifts over the rubble. From the knee down, there is only mist, when a man drops, it is like they are simply swallowed by the world …

Thomas takes a few minutes to move towards the other commanders; in this case, Myrana d'Armaz. He rides over on a chestnut brown Tarris charger, raising a hand when he's close to salute and dip his helm to her. "Baroness Myrana. Once the bugle signal rises that the breach is taken, I would like you to move through the breach with your Thornesmen and have them fan out in depth. Also, have them open the gates so our cavalry and other troops can move through. Scout ahead, cut enemy supply lines, trap pockets of them, ambush them and so on. Is this something acceptable?" Thomas looks back over to the smoke screen; nothing is visible, and he frowns. "I am happy that his Excellency was able to concoct this screen. We lose far less but… I dislike having to rely on bugle and sound signals only. Or dispatch riders."

Zayne guides his men through the smokescreen charging up and through debris along with the rest of his Bears. The Black Bears specialize in men at arms and large weaponry and they move with quick effiency and are some of the first to break through. No time is wasted Zayne simply roars and charges the legion of swords and steel his eyes flashing with fury. His men follow suit roaring thier own battlecries as they throw themselves at the Kentaire men like human battering rams. At first glance it appears the Bears have no discipline but Zayne has trained them for this affect. They fight as one, as a unit but in a chaotic and wild fashion thats ment to unnerve and disarm the enemy. Zayne lifts his silvery blade with ease, bringing it forth on the nearest enemy soldier in a vicious arc.

"Cuss it!" Myrana drops the glass away from her eye when their forces dissapear into that billowing cloud of dust. It goes without her thinking about it into a tooled leather sleeve at her belt just as Thomas rides up, spraying the shins of herself and her cohort of Thornesmen with scree and dirt.

As if she hadn't just cursed the exact same screen, she puffs herself up. "In such a screen, God is our armor more than steel." She says, stout. "It is, Baron Chandus." With that she turns again, and readies her Thornesmen to get into position where they will be able to move in quickly when the time comes.

Havelock dons the damp mask about his mouth and nose before donning his laurelled helm, the finely wrought detail on that most simple of helms certainly marking him out from amongst the many plainer helms, though the visor is left up for it is often hard enough to catch ones breath in a plate helm, let alone while wearing a mask. Only once the charge is signalled, does the Reliant dig his heels in and push off, storming towards that breach, racing veritably at a pace that seeks to inspire, there is simply no holding back, the die is cast. Breathing heavily as the rise is taken, then the rubble and the smoke, it is one rather blind Havelock who stumbles ahead, rasping into the mask worn about his mouth as he staggers, almost drunk and unseeing as bolts slam into the earth and many a body about him. And so, raising his shield, a red shield adorned with the White Cross of the Reliants, Havelock steps forth into the bright and clean air, swiftly fixing his gaze upon the enemy ahead… and again he charges alongside the others, slamming into the nearest shield and thrusting his sharp blade at the nearest enemy, as many more men slam in against the enemy beside him.

Once more unto the breach, hmmm? As they start moving forward, Jarret moves as one of the first in the group, his poleaxe ready to strike. Waiting until they're in place, before he swings his weapon for the first enemy that approaches.

Blow for blow, Havelock trades attacks with the shield bearing Kentaire soldier, one hit scoring against the enemy's chest, only to be turned away by the armour, while the counterattack sees Havelock's warcoat slashed and the heavy armour beneath revealed. Dropping his shield, Havelock seeks to force the shieldwall as he clasps his blade in both hands and redoubles his efforts!

Continuing to fight the enemies, Jarret notices some of the people dying nearby. "KEEP ON! IF WE STOP, WE DIE…" he calls out to the troops, while he moves in for another attack.

Zayne doesn't stop, he doesn't pause. He leads his men by example throwing himself into the fray and fighting with everything he has. One man takes a blow to the chest and staggers back only to have the D'Rana advance further his greatsword swinging forth for another aggressive blow. He dodges one mans attempt to strike him and shrugs off a blow to his arm with the help of his armor. With determination and narrowed eyes Zayne roars again as he sees his man go down and yet he never pauses his own fight, he merely grows more determined and more aggressive.

Thomas leans over to Sir Jauffre d'Ascoyne, his own second in command and the head of the Burnished Spurs, saying, "Sir Jauffre, please have your knights and squire dispatched with regularity to the front. We obviously cannot see inside, nor suss what is going on, but we must know how the battle goes." A terse nod completes the sentence, which though phrased as a request is really an order. Thomas smiles at Myrana. "Excellent. If you see an opening before that, by all means… you are the commander of your troops. But none of us want to squander such an asset, I suspect."

Dario takes several blows and with a wince he falls back. He takes the time to wrap his wounds briefly and offer bandgages and quick treatment to a few of the men near him who may have sustained injuries along with him.

Myrana nods, and when the time is right, she and her Thornesmen move in with swiftness. They dissapear quickly into the heavy clouds of dirt and smoke and stonedust surrounding the breach. Immediately, the soaked kerchief she wears over her face is peppered by spray and the young D'Armaz has to struggle to get up into the breach, hands finding the shaft of a bolt here that rises up like a ship's prow in heavy fog, and uses it to pull herself up, and finally over, scree scattering underfoot.

Sliding down the hill of debris and fallen figures, Myrana stumbles over one and collides in a sickening instant against the back of a Kentaire infantryman. They both scream in surprise, and while the man throws her back with a powerful sweep of his arm, his sword merely slides harmessly across the plates of her brig coat. Her ass hits the rocks with a numbing suddenness, and in an instant she whips Ardaigh free and peels open the links of his chain, the lightsilver eating them like buttered toast.

The Men scream and die, or are wounded, but the screaming wounded below the mist of the smoke drifting along the field. From below that line, moans and cries and begging for mothers or fathers can be heard occassioanlly. Somewhere somebody screams near Myrana, but it might be drowned out by the slashing blades.

Thornesmen glide through the smoke and the battle, a group peel off while the rest try to protect their Baroness, the sound of hand cannons firing, and the ringing of metal as the Thornesmen slip toward the gatehouse ….

The sound of battle fills the air, even from hundreds of yards away. Baron Thomas grimaces. He clearly dislikes not being able to suss out anything that's going on ahead, and begins to get impatient and fidgety. A pair of Burnished Spur horsemen, a knight and a squire, gallop through the smoke to his position and report that the breach is still held by the enemy. He nods at a new pair. "Go tell the First Spear Centurion of the 1st Cohort that I want a century of his legionnaires through the breach, please. We need to break through this and get the gates open if we wish to move on." The two other Spurs nod enthusiastically and take off at their own gallop towards the 1st Cohort of the Argent Legion. Thomas rubs his hands together.

Thank god for backup; Myrana feels more than sees the presence of her cousins and is bolstered as they fight off a number of the enemy in the near radius; meanwhile she accepts their help and turns toward where the gate must be, hearing Ouros barking behind her; the Elementi's excited barks get louder a moment later and turn to savage, snarling growls as she tears at something, worrying at an arm perhaps, or a leg. Myra can't see, and she's glad she can't see.

Once more moving on, Jarret dodges the incoming attacks, while aiming some attacks for the enemies as well. He seems rather relaxed, all things considered, as he keeps on moving through the battle.

Havelock's renewed approach, lacking a shield and taking a fierce slice across his right thigh, is perhaps worth it. For even as his opponent delivers that light wound to the raging Reliant, Havelock thrusts the oh so sharp sidhe steel blade through the man's chest, piercing armour, flesh, and bone with one deep and decisive thrust. For a brief second, Havelock and the Kentaire fellow lock eyes, though the Kentaire soldier's gaze soon turns blank as the Reliant pushes him from the blade and brings it about to the next obstacle, "For the One! For Aequor! For Galenthia! Drive these damnable heathens from this land!", the laurelled Sir Havelock's voice a veritable roar above the din of battle as he lashes out at another.

Another hit to Zayne's arm occurs and this one manages to cut through his brigadine a little leaving a light wound in its wake. Zayne lashes out at the mans neck in return fighting furiously and still without any sign of stopping. He attempts to bolster the men around him as he fights, doing his best to bring down as many of the enemy as he can. Havelock's religious battle cry has Zayne crying back over the din of battle. "Screw the sodding One! Just kill these sons of vitches!"

Another pair of message dispatchers come back to Baron Thomas and inform him that portcullis of the wall appears to be edging open; sign of someone opening it for them, perhaps? Thomas's eyes widen, and a smile crosses his face for the first time today. He decides to seize the moment. "Send another two centuries through to that gate, and half of our cavalry. Yes, the Reliants and the d'Rana cavalry. We'll keep the Spurs in reserve. Go, now!"

"Hhah!" Myrana shoves a man off of Ardaigh, whom she most impolitely ran through from behind without so much as a how-do-you-do. It almost pulls her forward on top of him, but she's not exactly built for musclework. Before her now looms the gate, and the shapes of several Thornesmen. One of them is throwing up the bars. She runs in, and puts her shoulder against the reinforced wood as well, lending her weight to the massive push.

So focused on helping get the gates open for their forces to push through, Myrana doesn't watch her back as well as she might. The first clue she gets that there's someone behind her is that there's a gladius's point poking through her near the shoulder. She lets out a strangled scream and leaves off pushing the door, turning around with such sharp suddenness that the man has no time to draw it back out of her and finish the job. With a snarl she swirls and hacks with a vicious overhand swing, taking the man's head nearly from his shoulders so that it falls back on a sick flap and blood gouts upward, and then back as he falls to his knees and collapses, dead as a doornail. Huffing with effort, she almost drops Ardaigh, and raises one gloved hand to the grisly point coming through her armor, shaking and disbelieving. "G-God! God!" The hilt is still sticking out on the other side, but she's momentarily too frightened to do anything about it besides keep on her feet and not collapse from shock.

A few more whip cracks of gunfire erupt form the gate hosue, and men scream. Somebody is thrown form the top of the gate, and then the portcilus raises at a steady pace and the doors swing outward as soon as it is out of the way. Under Thomas's command, two Centuries from the First Cohort of the Argent Legion rush forward, but are over taken by a near century of Heavy Cavalry that passes them and bursts through the gates. Lances slamming into defenders, and horses trampling foes. The Aegent Legion force reaches the gate and secure it, pushing back even mroe defenders.

From the other side fo the wall, a trumpet sounds.

The forces locked with the breachers slash and hack at each other. Somebody is thrown off the rubble pile to dissapear below that mist of smoke and gun smoke, hsi scream cut off when he impacts the ground. The two forces continue to vie, bu the defenders, pressed agianst so many attackers are begining to flag …

Anothers blood stains Havelock's blade and again he presses forward against the Kentaire soldiers, hacking and pushing and jabbing at those who stand in his way. The laurelled knight taking but a moment to tear the damp rag from his mouth, tossing it towards the enemy before lashing out with a swift cut of his blade. As much as he hacks at the enemy, those heavy boot-shod feet kick and stamp, gaining purchase and ground with every bloodied inch taken.

Zayne is a flurry of grey and flashing lightsilver. The d'Rana pushes ever onward his blade arcing and twisting towards the enemies without pause and in a way that Zayne makes look effortless. The scream of Myrana has Zayne's eyes narrowing and he pushes and shoves his way through the fray slicing enemies on the way as he hurries to his Lady's side.

Thomas is becoming very impatient indeed. Even if the smoke, which is slowly clearing, were not screening his view of the battle, the massive wall would be. He needs to know what is happening on the other side of the wall. The trumpet call brings another smile to the Baron's face. He turns to a man who's been with him in battle for many years, his Master Ranger Lieutenant Franz Smith, and tells him, "Excellent. Get messengers to inform the 1st Cohort that they are to leave a strong rearguard here." Smith nods and moves off. Now Thomas turns to his own bodyguard, specifically his Corporal at Arms, Lewis. "For all others, sound the general advance. We will push through the wall once it is clear and establish a foothold on the otherside. We'll size up what we do from there."

Thomas turns to Ramius, and says, "General, our forces have largely made the breach. The portcullis is open. You may take the lead when you wish." He dips his head respectfully.

Continuing to move forward, Jarret mostly manages to stay healthy as he presses the attack. There's a brief smile as the gates are opened, but he keeps on moving onto the attack for now.

Breathing through her teeth and with her eyes closed, Myrana feels Ouros press herself against her leg and takes a deep breath, clearing her head with a quick shake while her hand is still pressed against the flesh just below the gladius' point. Blood soaks downward over the breast and armpit of her brig coat on that side and slowly turns the skirting over one knee black. "Search the wall," she tells her commander. "M-Make sure there are no charges left for us to find when they retreat."

A figure surges like a bolt of greased lightning into the heart of this orgy of violence. Clad in jet black armor, with a blade whose ruby-heart seems to blaze with the light of dawn. Argetlahm whirls like a killing wind, hewing into the desperate defenders with deft, crushing blows. "Press deeper, men! Shatter their defenses, drive them into the retreat! But know mercy, for these soldiers may soon be your countrymen once again! Break their lines, strike down their commanders! Onwards!" Ramius roars, launching into another flurry of blows. "EVER ONWARDS!"

As the cavalry breaks through, Kentaire and d'Kemp troops are run down or captured. The total Three Hundred defenders are unable to stand against the might once the gates are open. What few are left alive they surrender, many drop to their knees or toss weapons aside. The battle is over, and the Legion, by Thomas' command begins to orderly march forward, while the 14th's Century begins to dismantle their artilelry to move to the other side of the wall.

The siege of the d'Kemp pass is over, now they are in the territory owned by d'Kemp and nobody knows what lies in wait for them ….

As the surrender of the enemy forces begins, Havelock and his Reliant companions begin to move amongst the dead and injured, those within the breech and either side of it. Tending, staunching wounds and soothing the dying. As much as they had fought hard to ensure victory, Havelock and his Brothers settle into their more spiritual role with ease, as they set about healing the injured and offering many a prayer for the dying, regardless of what side they fought on. The enemy likely worships the same God after all, just a different High Priest.

The smoke finally clears as the battle over, and Thomas rides forward with the Burnished Spur cavalry, his own Chandus men mounted on stout mountain ponies (though none really ride well). Clearing the gate, he surveys the carnage on the other side. Dead soldiers, some dead animals, charred and smashed masonry… it's a mess. "We'll have to clear this completely of bodies and rubble. Sir Jauffre." He turns to the commander of the Spurs. "I want you to ride ahead with your men, mapping and scouting our path and ascertaining the enemy's strength. Report back regularly. We will likely camp on this side of the wall, but if we advance, we'll keep in contact. Link up with Baroness d'Armaz's Thornesmen. They are superb scouts, as well."

Myrana is out of the way of the incoming charge, but only just thanks to the side of the gate. She sinks back a little, staggering, and sits gingerly on a tumbled stone. Its about as much as she's up to while the calvalry roars inward, and its from this sheltered spot, surrounded by that choking swirl of dust and smoke, that she watches the heavy infantry led by Ramius in his blackened plate pour in and crush anyone still holding weapons. Her part is done and done for now, and she doesn't worry that the commanders will need to be reminded to take hostages with wartime courtesy. If she stays put, one of the healers will be by eventually.

"And I'm not pulling this bastard out," she tells Ouros, who pants at her feet where the elementi lays like a gorey nightmare, tongue lolling out one side of her jaws and the spiked war-collar glinting in the haze. "No indeed. God's breath."

As the battle seems to wind down, Jarret leans on his poleaxe as he waits for things to be done. "Ah, how nice…" he remarks to himself, as he glances around. There's some blood from a few minor wounds, but all in all he looks okay. Turning to one of those lower commanders of the pike he's leading, asking the man for a report.

Riding through the portcullis, Thomas salutes the Spurs as they continue onward to the north to break trail for the rest of the army. He turns his horse towards the breach in the wall, specifically trying to find Ramius. Along the way, he raises his arm unencumberedb by shield, cheering the troops. "Baron Ramius! Hail! A victory well fought. It appears that our losses were light, and the way open for us!"

Another successful breach of yet another wall. Ramius is becoming quite old hat at this sort of thing. This is the… Third? Fourth if you count that time against Kentaire in Fiorello. The northern baron stands vigil over a rapidly growing pool of captives and turncoats, idly supervising his men as they pick the loyalists from the rebels.

It's a boring job, but someone's got to do it.

"Baron Thomas," Ramius turns his head toward the other man. "Indeed, it seems we got off rather easily. I'm surprised, however. I had expected greater resistance than this. d'Kemp and his Legate were absent, were they not?"

Myrana appears eventually near where the captives are being looked over by Thomas and Ramius, and no doubt by Jarret as well. Ouros is at her heels. She's a little bit glazed, but still a good deal more alert than she should be, considering the past three days and the battle that just passed, and over the stink of the bodies and blood and smoke, there's a powerful smell of anise hanging around her in a cloud. CLEVER ALCHEMICAL DRUGS? WHY THANK YOU.

"Is this all of them?" she asks.

"I have my Thornesmen searching the wall for surprises," she says, more than a little jittery. "But we shouldn't place our backs too close against it."

That warm breath whispers in Myrana's ears. "You saw what it was like without the words. You won, but it was held by a thread." a light delicious chuckle. "The next battle will be harder. More will die. Ten times as many as were here will loie dead. And ther will be at least one more battle besides. Say the words. Give you, and your … Husband …. The edge." a light brush of lips on an ear lobe. "Say the words …. "

Myrana drops the alchemical flask she was carrying, that she'd just emptied, with a jumpy gasp, as if she thought she saw something just to one side. But of course, there's nothing there, and she is hopped up on enough uppers to make a man twice her size jump up and do a jig. She shivvers, and trying to calm her breathing puts her free hand up over her ear. "Th… Those scorpions are loud," she mutters darkly.

"This is most of them," Ramius says to his favorite white-haired woman in all the world, but only after frowning at the sword sticking out of her shoulder. "…You should really have that fixed. I believe you may be delusional from the bloodloss. What… Scorpions, Myrana?"

"I agree, but I did not see any of their leaders." Thomas turns to survey the prisoners with impassive, water blue eyes. "Do you see, men of d'Kemp and Kentaire, what your commanders think? They think you worthy of nothing but the slaughter. They knew this would be taken." Turning back to Ramius, he shrugs armoured shoulders. "They likely did not expect us to entrench our artillery or throw smoke up. Had there not been smoke, we would have taken much worse casualties… One be praised that we were sent Bishop Dario. A stroke of luck." He arches an eyebrow at Myrana, but says nothing.

Myrana seems about to respond one way, but then thinks better of it. "Y-yes, good idea. Oh! Why there she is now." Myrana espies Girei approaching, the ogre doctor of Gendiel. And she makes no further fuss as she's led off forcibly but gently to the healer's tent and certain liver failire.

Jarret looks around now, before he moves over to join the others, steps a bit slow. "A good day," he offers, words kept rather quiet now.

"I believe that your earlier assessment may have been correct. I do not know how they managed to sneak all these Kentairians up here, but it seems odd that they were able to make it through Aequor without being detected." Ramius strokes his chin as he watches his wife getting carted off by a woman easily twice her size. Medical care, it's serious business. "I believe they must have known that this wall would fall. The only thing I can consider is that this was a gambit to provoke us into war, which means their aim is not victory here, but attrition. I suspect their city will be much more heavily fortified, and we do not have the time to lay a prolonged siege."

Thomas waves at Jarret when he says him stepping towards him, saying, "Sir Jarret, come and join us." He nods at the other Galenthian and to Ramius, asks, "Presumably you know Sir Jarret? Heir to the Sokar Duchy and one of the most viscious warriors I've met. That poleaxe… well, you see the results." As the conversation shifts back towards the war, he screws up his face in thought momentarily, then ventures. "If not a prolonged siege, then we will need to get our light forces in the walls of their fortress and open the doors. I think the d'Armaz Thornesmen are ideal for such a venture, would you? And perhaps some of the d'Rana Black Bears? Doctor Sir Havelock, too, had some ideas about propaganda, but I will let him speak to this as I do not know what he wanted to venture. Only that it would involve possibly convincing the citizens of d'Kemp that their masters had procured a bad deal for them and aligned against the country they'd always known."

"I believe we have met at least once before?" Maybe at Four Corners, or somewhere else? Hm. He shakes his head, then. "It's a risky business, such a thing. The chance for something to go wrong is great indeed. It would be advantageous if we could convince the people to throw open their own walls, but I do not believe they will react openly unless we can give them the opportunity to. Otherwise, they risk much by turning coat, and stand to gain little."

Ramius scratches at his chin, deep in thought.

"If it is a city, it will have a water supply. An amphibious assault may be the best way to insert enough covert agents to subvert the gate mechanisms."

"Ah, only mentioning the boring parts," Jarret offeres to Thomas, before he nods a bit at Ramius' words. "At least once. I remember you and your army coming to Fiorello, for one." There's a brief pause as he listens. "Make sure we get them a chance to gain something, then."

Thomas grimaces. "You're likely right about that, but if we were to shoot leaflets over the walls, it might convince them, at the least, to not attack us when moving through the streets. Truth be told, all I know is that Elder's Eye is their seat, on a hilltop. I know not definitively if there is a town around it, or if they will be defending this town. What I do know is that our reports said there were over a thousand in these lands… we maybe clipped two hundred off of that, plus the Kentairish soldiers. They may not all be holed up in the fortress, and we must protect ourselves."

"I do not like the idea of fighting uphill," Ramius sighs. "It's bad luck. And d'Kemp has always been the last guard for the royal family- their walls will not be easy to breech. But we will need to secure the Eye in order to reclaim the province none-the-less. As far as offering something—" Ramius shrugs. "The most I can think of is incentive of land or special trading rights from the crown. But other than that, we can give little other than the promise of liberation and repatriation."

Jarret nods a little, before he offers a brief smile. "Let us see how things are when we get to the Eye, hmmm?"

Baron Chandus says, "I think that latter aspect would be most welcome. After all, these people have no affinity whatsoever with Kentaire and have always served the Crown reliably. I can hardly think that they, especially the middling merchants who regularly leave the fief, want to suddenly be in a foreign country. It was one thing if no war had come to their fief but… now, war has come to their fief."

Thomas turns his horse partially to watch the troops dragging off dead into a pile by what looks like a massive fire pit in construction. "It's spring. Best we burn the dead, after the Bishop gives them their funerary rites. Disease is nasty this time of year. As for fighting up hill… this is why we need to find a way into their keep, some how. I suspect, my lords, that this is simply the opening volley in a much bigger war. Best we get things settled here and move back to important theatres, soonest."

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