(1868-04-30) Battle of Elder's Valley
Battle of Elder's Valley
Summary: The Arrani Legion meets the forces of Kentaire and d'Kemp in Elder's Valley, and there they make war.
Date: 4/30/186
Related: The War of the West, The d'Kemp Campaign
NPCs: {$npc}
Players:
Myrana  Ramius  Thomas  Jarret  Sonya  Altair  Virgil  Zayne  Percival  

Marcus  

The Elder's Valley
Farm land with one Farm house and a Cow.
4/30/1868

The Arrani Legion has continued it's march north. Where at first they were slowed, with the addition of the Kaedon Snakes from Galenthia, the Legion began to move a little faster. However the scouts still report skirmishes, and quiet battles in the woods. Luckily no lives (on either side) were lost, but it is clear that the addition of the Snakes allowed the Legion to keep the enemy on their toes enough to prevent from setting up a repeat of their first ambush. As the Legion marched, the moods grew darker and darker. If just 100 Ketaire soldiers could inflict that much chaos, what would happen when the two forces finally met?

It was a question that is on every soldier's miind. As the day drags on, hte pass begins to level out, and open up. Soon, the Legion finds itself in House d'Kemps bread bastet. The Elder Valley. A platue between the mountains that make up Elder's Eye, due to the area's past volcanic region it is extremely arriable. So, as the Legion crests a hill, they find themselves looking at vast farmland many squar miles in dimension. And waiting for them is an arrayed enemy army.

THe banners of House d'Kemp flutter next to the banners of the 2nd Volmar, while above those the banner of the Principality of Kentaire snaps in the light wind. In the vast distance, the prize can be seen: That of Elder's Eye itself. A mountain fortress that waits in the distance, an imposing monster of the mountain that looms and looks down on the valley like a watchful god. Both armies are a bit away from each other. But it won't be long before the two sides are forced into conflict….

There is one Farm House in the center of the field. The One alone knows if it occupied. One Cow calmly chews grass not really caring that there are Armies arrayed around her.

Amongst the artillery the various officers have gathered round for but a brief meeting in which the observer sent from the South with the Kaedons was unceremoniously thrust into command of the field pieces. Looking through his spyglass in quiet survey of the field, the lanky outsider almost seems awkward in his quiet survey of the field. Stepping back to the assembled men, he does manage to pass the glass back to a shorter man wearing the blue and gold of Charwin as well. Taking his gloves he starts pulling the thick leather gauntlets on before reaching for his helmet. The Northerners watch, before a snicker is given, which snaps the man out his quiet preparation

"Oh yes, jolly sorry laddiebucks." He rattles out nervously, before clearing his throat." One might find Virgil Charwin out of his element, but in truth? His mind is playing out future volleys. Clearing his throat he accepts the glass back, before gesturing out to the field. "Our first goal is to focus fire on their artillery, and keep them from influencing the game, then go for where they are thick, force a route." And with that he watches them expectantly. "To your stations? Right, We will signal for the elements to fire- trebuchets please prime to launch." A look is given to his assistant. "Let's to our position and begin the rain."

Once in position, Close to the cannons Virgil raises his glass again.

"Trebuchets first, followed by the Cannon. Have the missiles to load and prepare to fire last. We will pick at them in the recovery." A nod and signal given, as the proper horns and flags correspond to orders. The screams of men, and then the eerie lurch and scream of wood and rope as the trebuchets awaken and hurl like a giant's arm."

The army they've marched north with is well appointed, quite professional, and ready for battle, but like all others in the Arrani Legion… doubt gnaws at Baron Thomas Chandus, the Brigadier of Galenthian forces and the Adjutant, or sub-commander, of this composite army. He does not let these doubts show on his face. Arrayed in his fearsome looking heavy lorrica and mounted, at least for now, on a light Tarris horse, the Marcher Baron is in the rear of the army, where he normally stays, with a picked unit of his own soldiers, also mounted in lighter lorrica, though undoubtedly only to get to the battle, and the heavy cavalry of the Royal Order of the Burnished Spurs. These latter ones DO look ready to fight ahorse, clad in brigandine and with lance ahand.

Both Chandus and Spurs banners flap in the wind. Thomas leans to speak to one of his Rangers, who are acting as messengers for the battle. "Let Baron d'Arran know that we are ready. May the One protect us." The ranger gallops off to relay the message, and the army moves.

In amongst her Shadow Snakes is non other than thier Countess. Sonya Kaedon, clad in pitch black leather and wielding twin daggers slips through the group of elite scouts guiding them forward as they traverse the battlefield at a cautious pace. The Shadow Snakes are ar better suited to forests and terrian where they can ambush others but they are nothing if not adaptable as well. They stay near the back of the army thier bows readied to fire as they come into range to do so. The countess herself stands poised and calm her dark eyes glinting as she peers out at the enemy. "Bows at the ready!" She pauses as the Snakes snap to follow the command as one. They arrange themsleves into a covered position as much as them can as they ready their arrows. "Aim…and…FIRE!" The Countess gives the command and the arrows sail forward in a well aimed rain of destructon.

"Finally," Jarret mutters to himself as things seems to be ready to start. "We have all trained for this," he calls out to the pikemen, lifting his poleaxe over his head as he does. "You all know what to do. Remember, our cause is the right one. It will be hard, not everyone will make it, but we will succeed!" A brief pause, before he adds, "I have faith in each and every one of you." That said, he lowers his weapon again, and turns to the front again, ready for the armies to clash.

Ramius was expecting a slog. Ramius was also expecting a positive grinder of death and blood, an engine for the efficient processing of men's souls to their final resting place. He has not been disappointed thus far, and it looks as though he will not be disappointed today. The Baron d'Arran stands not at the back of his army, but at its forefront, adjusting his armor amidst the men and women who he calls a second family. The sword Argetlahm glimmers brilliantly against his shoulder where it rests. "This looks as though it will be an interesting day," Ramius says with some regret as his eyes scan the field of battle. "Let's make sure we all survive to drink to its end."

"Alright men. I won't waste alot of time talking. This will be tough but I have faith in each of you. We will get through this battle together as brothers in arms. As Black Bears! Now lets go kick some ass." Atop his new grey horse Lord Zayne d'Rana Captain of the Black Bears is riding with the calvary today. Dressed in his brigadine with his lightsilver blade held at the ready he holds his horse in check waiting for the signal. Once it is given the giant d'Rana spurs his horse forward with a roar of "Charge!" guiding his men towards the enemy at a swift charge towards the center formation. They won't get there right away but it won't take long until the Bears ram thier way into the enemy forces. The grey horse thunders down the pathway and Zayne takes note of the farm house in the middle of where the armies will likely clash with a look of what might be sympathy but it quickly fades into a look of vicious determination as he continues his ride forward into battle.

One of the officers charged with leading the Burnished Spur Pikes is Sir Percival Charing. He has a wary look ahead, then back at the men. His gaze finds Sir Jarret Sokar then, the leader of their unit, and Percy smile-frowns as he listens to Jarret's speech. With his sword in hand, the knight is alert, the tingle of impending battle unmistakeable, but it only enhances the focus. "You heard him," he says to the men, after Jarret's words. "Today we'll find glory, and some of us death on the battlefield. Either way, we will make'em pay a high prize. In blood."

Myrana is not on horseback today, though it would possibly help her keep up with her much taller husband; instead she is standing all but swallowed up in his shadow, a snow white glimmer among the bristle of weaponry and heavy infantry plate. Normally she would be with her Thornesmen, but today she's with the heavy infantry, and has left the command of the Armaz foresters to her capable cousin. Ardaigh is at her hip weighing against the skirts of her brigadine, and beneath the midcalf fullness of her riding kirtle, her legs are clad in hardened leather boots with silver toes; a cavalier fashion with soft soles the better to spring unexpectedly at heavier opponents in. Her white hair is braided down her back with pins of dogroses, and the little bell pendant she wears chimes nervously at her throat.

The two forces close, and as if there was one command, the two sides fire all at once. Cannon roars, Trebuchets loose, Archers let fly, and Long Cannons fire. The effect is that on this clear, only slightly windy day, the world sounds as if it shatters. Gun Smoke drifts as men call for orders to reload. Arrows, shot, and bolts all find marks or bounce harmlessly off armor or shields. Men scream as they take wounds, and the ground shakes as artilelry hammers the ground.

One of the units of Long Cannons from Kentaire looses a deadly barrage at the Kaedon Heavy Infantry. The massed southern troops there are cut down form the deadly accurate Kentaire fire, sheilds and armor unable to stop the incoming shot as men die and fall, or are wounded and scream. The remaining Kaedon fall abck as their sergeant calls out: "RETREAT!" Leaving many of their fellwos wounded or dead in the dirt and grass of the farm fields.

Many other units take wounded but keep marching on, the cavalry racing forward despite the shots raining down among them.

The Farm house slowly closes it's doors and several windows begin to close. The Cow? The Cow looks uninterested….

The first volley rolls like clouds of the gathering storm overhead, to crash down amongst the rank and file. The Charwin offers a nervous smile. "When the music starts it's always bloody well exciting isn't it? Fire the long toms and bark the thunder!" Poetic nonsense for the cannonade to follow it's peppering assault. Carefully, Virgil raises his spyglass. "Infantry is in range, tell the missiles to start followed by the Scorpion. Our arms should be full again." He muses before shifting a bit in his stance.

The Cannons ripple out in quick succession recoiling back gently and violently with each thunderous bark as balls fill the air. "Tell the trebuchet, range was fine, pull to left three degrees." Virgil comments while watching through his spyglass. And then he notices something peculiar. A little home in the middle of it all.

"Huh." He muses, before nudging his assistant. "Look there, Maker above, I wonder what they are eating."

Thomas is on slightly higher ground than the rest of the army, being as the valley slopes gently downward into the area where both armies have now unleashed a barrage of missiles. As the cavalry take off at the charge, Thomas watches very closely, gripping his reins tightly. He grimaces when the Kaedon infantry receive a withering barrage of long cannon fire and route. "This is not a good start." To his side, Serjeant Beaven Lewis, his eternal shadow, grunts. Corporal Robert Stewart says nothing.

"We should stay away from the cottage there," Myrana says to Ramius. "If it were me, I would have filled it with charges enough to blow a hole in the enemy forces once they were deep about it." She unsheathes Ardaigh and prepares to advance with him and the rest of the infantry.

In the distance Sonya watches her infantry route and scowls her eyes narowing. There is a composed sort of rage in the Countesses eyes and provided he didn't die in the barrage of fire his unit recieved Sonya's infantry commander will likely wish he HAD died when she gets ahold of him. For now though the Countess remains stoic and controlled outwardly lifting her hand and ordering her scouts to ready themselves to make another volley at the enemy.

"Have I mentioned how much I hate ranged weapons," Jarret mutters darkly as they advance, words kept low, meant for himself alone. He doesn't pay much attention to the other parts of the battle, focusing on his little corner of it for the moment.

"I hate them too," says a voice not too far away from Jarret. It is the Charing knight, lifting a brow as he glances towards the Sokar. A wry grin there. "It'll be on us soon enough."

The thundering of his horses hooves brings Zayne closer and closer towards the battle. Out of the corner of his eye he spots the Kaedon Calavry about to come under attack. He is quick to change his course a bit, guiding his own unit over to help the southerners deal with the threat. His men follow thier leader and the Black Bear Calvary ride to aid the Kaedon's. Zayne calls out with a wicked grin on his face. "Come on men! Lets spill some enemy blood!" And then his giant greatsword goes arching down trying to knock an enemy man off his horse.

The guns roar. Men lose their lives not to honorable combat, but to the cruel and merciless physical laws that govern everything under heaven's eye. Ramius grimaces, his expression turning foul as the projectiles shatter a company of his men. This will not be easy.

Being charged by a gaggle of angry soldiers on horseback, that is also equally bad news, but it's a problem that he can do something about. "Come on lads," Ramius growls. "Brace yourselves. Cut down the horse and the rider will follow!"

Thunder rolls as the Cavalry of both sides surge forward. In the middle a massive swirling melee of Arrani Legion and Kentaire Legion cavalry begins, as ranged forces try to pick off the wings of the clashing units. Men scream, horses scream louder, as the two forces hammer into each other. More Long Cannon fire and Archer fire flies through the air, the shot straight, the bolts and arrows arcing. Armor stops the vast majority of the projectiles but not all. Men scream as they take wounds and fall in place clutching at shots or protruding projectiles. Blood flows, the air is filled with commands and the sound of death.

A unit form the Argent Legion takes a hammering from Long Cannon fire, and Cannon artillery. Men scream as they are torn limb from limb form bouncing cannon shot, or are cut down from the shot from the Kentaire Long Cannons. Before the next shot of the Cannons, the Argent legion unit turns and flees, few of their men still standing. Not an officer among them, the men run for the pass, in terror.

The Arran Heavy Infantry find themselves charged by cavalry, and the two forces collide with thunder. Great Swords answer Spear and shield and mounted men. As the Arrani scream their battle cries and defiance to these invaders.

The Cannons find their mark, but still the situation looks grim on the field as another unit is decimated. Chewing on his lip nervously the Charwin raises his hand for the trebuchets to fire again. "Reload cannons. We need to knock them out." He utters quickly,"Or we will need to start plowing the field."

A look is given for a messanger, but none are coming. "Dash it all, fire."

As the enemy advances Sonya readies her daggers as she prepares to enter the battle alongside her Shadow Snakes. Dual daggers poised the black leather clad Countess darts forward with the speed and viciousness of the serpent that symbolizes her House. She might have coated those daggers in snake venom before the battle but it likely will not be noticed, dead men don't talk after all. Her archers ready themselves to fire once more and several men and women form up alongside thier countess as she darts into the midst of the battle.

Zayne's blade slices one man off his horse and takes off the arm of another as he rides forth bringing his blade up once more for another strike. The Red Bear lifts that massive glittering lightsilver sword, its blade stained crimson in a most intimidating sight before it arcs down to try and take another life. The d'Rana's emerald eyes are narrowed slightly determined and calculating even as he charges through the enemy trying to cut as many of them down as he can.

The calvalry charge on the infantry comes like a wave on the beach, and bodies are sent tumbling back like sand. Myrana ducks into it ahead of Ramius and under the churning legs of a Kentaire charger. In an instant she's on the other side of the bugling animal and grabbing at the greaves of the soldier atop it; she pulls him off balance as he's looking at Ramius and runs him through at the joint of thigh and crotch where a gap in his armor allows, and he falls with a scream. The horse runs by kicking and panicking.

Always late to the party. A towering warrior of shocking white hair, eyes like ice and skin the color of death itself steps onto the scene, his armor decidedly non-standard for the armies fighting. While he bears the colors of Aequor, of the forces under Lady D'Armaz, his armor is of a steel scale variety, styled so as to take after that of a dragon. The dragon upon his shield does not help dispel the notion that the soul of a dragon lies within this warrior. Just returning from scout duty with a few others, they quickly file in as reinforcements in the ongoing battle. Altair, the White Dragon, looks for Myrana's position, his commander, to see if she needs him for anything as he rushes towards the battle before them.

Another unit routing, another wince from Thomas. "Damnit!" He exclaims, uncharacteristically, for the Argent Legion are regular, professional soldiers who serve the Aequorian Kingdom, reknowned for their steadiness in battle. "Not that I can blame them, Lewis. I've been under artillery fire but that was… brutal."

The Army enters into a general melee all across the board, engaging the enemy with sword, spear, pike, bow and longcannon. The noise soon becomes chaos, and Thomas's only information on how things are going are from the blasts of signaling instruments, which confusingly vary between the multinational participants, the wave of flag, thankfully standardised, and the steady flow of messengers. His men look eager to enter the fray, but he remains un commited for now.

"Good man," Jarret mutters to Percival with a brief grin. As the enemy comes charging in, he lets out a shout to their men. "Incoming! Let's do this!" Time to show why he has the byname he has, isn't it?

The soul of a dragon. The luck of a man who should never step into a casino, ever. He manages to hit the cavalry as he's coming towards him, bt not only does his hit only meet armor, the cavalry's weapon manages to bypass his own armor and dig in deep, into his center of mass. Feeling the blood shortage beginning already, Altair begins to back off, his steps away from the front line becoming ever more unsteady with each passing moment, beginning to add his own blood to that which stains the earth from so many others this day.

The battle is joined en masse as the infantry closes, and the the area around the farm house is a seething mass of combat as men and women slash and stab and hack. Armor is rent. Sheilds are shattered. Men are killed or wounded. Long Cannon fire continues to ripple on both sides, as each army tries to gain the advantage on the field of battle.

As the two sides clash, Levies on both side are routed as they take punishment form melee and ranged rife. The Kaedon Cavalry takes the brunt of the Kentaire Cavalry fight, and sends them retreating as well. Men falling form saddle as Hand Cannons are fired, or their horses brought down from spear or Gladius. However the enemy takes serious losses as well. As unishing as their cavalry charge on the right flank was, they appear to be taking the worst of it at present. Two units of the Kentaire Legion route, fleeing the battle, while the Left's Long Cannons are silenced form a fussalgae of fire, and flee the battle as well.

Cannons fire, and this time, the shot slams into the Kaedon's Snakes. Sonya finds herself thrown form her feet and covered in both mud and blood as artillery rips through her unit, and kilsl men. They stand firm, but it is clear, they can't take MUCH more punishment.

"Fire!" rattles the Charwin as he lowers his spyglass before motioining yo a signaler. "Send a bloody volley into the valley - Mind the house! Tell the trebuchet to keep focus on their artillery- Are my missiles in place?" still awaiting confirmation, but once it happens- Virgil is quick to act. "Tell them to fire!"

Myrana jumps back just in time so that the blade of one of the advancing calvalrymen scrapes across her brig coat without piercing it and retreats fighting to cover Ramius' back. With the mill of horses and taller infantrymen, she's effectively blind; her scope of vision is reduced to the press of battle immediately around herself.

The force of the explosion from enemy cannons sends Sonya reeling backwards. She twists herself as she falls so as to prevent any truly serious injuries. As it stands the only thing the cannon fire achieved at this point was making the countess and her scouts VERY mad. "Form up! Everyone on your feet NOW!" Sonya gets up and grabs her daggers tossing back her long braid of ebony hair as she rushes forward calling out to her men and women to rally them. "Forward. Slice thier thoats and water the ground with thier blood! They shall not take our brothers and sisters so easily with out losing twice as many of thiers!" And the Shadow Snakes charge.

There! The cavalry of the enemy is upon them, and Sir Percival attacks them with a ferocious roar, not minding the hooves thundering about them and aiming to take some of those riders down. A gladius manages to nick him, but his sword finds at least one of the riders. He glances about quickly to assess the situation, of the Burnished Spur pikes, and last but not least, he'll want to check how Jarret is doing.

Thomas watches enemy forces on the left of the battle crumple under the weight of massed bowshot and infantry charges, and things finally begin to swing their way, even as some more of their soldiers rout. The centre holds, other than losing a cavalry unit, and the right begins to go their way too. He glances back over his shoulder at the artillery, skillfully, shooting trebuchet, cannon and ballista rounds all over the battlefield. He turns to Lewis. "Let the Lieutenant and the Spurs know to ready themselves. I haven't decided where, but I think we're going to move in very soon."

Thomas waves over one of his other Rangers. "Let the Arrani attache know to blow a smoke signal. Crude, yes, but it works. Enemy left faltering, centre steady with small loses, right sees enemy losses. Go now, and make sure that the bugle is blasted so they even know to LOOK."

As they clash with the enemy, Jarret's poleaxe gets to work. While he takes a few hits, and some of those right next to him goes down,there's far more of the enemy cavalry that goes down. "Press on!" he calls out, as he keeps moving forward. Time to make more of their enemies pay.

There is blood and there is fire. The acrid scent of gunpowder fills the air and stings the nose. Fresh saltpeter hits the ground all around as more bodies fall. Ramius roars as Argetlahm claims another victim. The news he hears is grim. So many dead and so many dying on both sides of the battle. This, indeed, is the price of war, all tidings are ill and all one can do is press through.

"Stand tall, men," Ramius yells, surging into the legs of yet another horse with blade held high. The beast's head falls away as its rider is cut at the hip, and Ramius moves to the next. A horn roars. He glances over his shoulder at his rear lines and finds an ill stream of signal smoke rising from camp. The battle is a slog. But he didn't need to be told that.

"Have the left flank mop up and press the center once they're done," Ramius rumbles at a nearby messenger. "We will hold here and shatter these bastards against our blades. Keep up the pressure, we will triumph here, hell or high water."

Zayne is still in the thick of it. Fighting with brutal strength and efficency he roars as he takes down another man. Emerald eyes glitter with a dangerous expression and Zayne spurs his horse into another charge wheeling around and arcing his blade downwards once again. Its almost like the d'Rana suffers from bloodlust but for the calculating gleam in his eyes. He knows just what to do to try and frighten the enemy just as he knows how to cut them down.

For Once, the Kentaire Cannon don't manage to pull much of a hit this round, catching the Armaz Archers on the wing, and sending shrapnel through thier rnaks. Luckily not killing many, buy taking heavy hits. The armies continue to clash, the Farm House remaining closed, but peppered by shot, and archer fire that misses units and men near the building. Three more units from the Kentaire are routed, falling back as quickly as they can. One of them one of the cavalry units.

The Praetor sits on his mount watching the battle as it takes shape. He frowns. He had not meant to fight them here, the two forces had just bumngled on each other. He sighs. He tips his head toward the Chandus Banner. "Well fought son of the Empire. Well fought." He watches the fight and frowns. At least his men had dealt a heavy blow to Many following vithes of house Kaedon per his orders. Numerous of the many had died, and he could hold his head high, knowing that he had done hsi duty to the One and his Prince.

Men swirl around each other, slashing and stabbing at every chance. The Arrani close ranks around their Baron and Baroness as they see enemies closing in. Somebody, a Sergeant from the Arrani, grabs Ramius' arm. "Baron! We're getting surrounded. YOU have to fall back! You're the bloody General, AND the only d'Arran!"

The Heavy Infantry of Kentaire is something to behold, glittering as they march to the Northern lines, bold and triumphant. In their lead a young son of some military officer, sword brandished as he orders on the double time.

BOOM

When the Captain awakes he slowly lurches up, noticing to his right the standard bearer is picking up his arm with banner still gripped. Other men are missing left in a shred of human material and armor. He tries to shout an order, but before his men can regroup the nine remaining shots of the allied cannonade rip into them. The sound is defeaning and the last sight he sees is his trumpeter's head being smashed off by errant ball.

With the cannon clearing a hole on the field Virgil raises a fist as cheers come up from the cannoneers. "Fire steady lads." a measure of calm now as a small wave of relief washes over the Charwin officer. The creaking whirl is heard as the trebuchet throws its weight again.

The battle finally appears to be turning in their favour - at least right now it is. It's time to commit the reserve. Thomas glances feverishly in between the left and the right. The reports are conflicted, with the right side seeming to chip away at the enemy's strong cavalry force as another squadron of the Kentaire horse and their long cannons disolve to the north. The left, though, could use some work. "Galenthians! To the left! Spurs, you take on the other cavalry! Sun Shields, we'll wade in against their foot and break them! We'll show them who carries on the legacy of the Empire!"

The Sun Shield Guards and Burnished Spurs gallop off to the right. Before they reach the enemy lines, the Sun Shield Guards dismount, draw swords and form a shield arrow head formation - with Thomas right at the tip of it, and the others behind. "Charge!" His sword flashing in the sun, his cobalt blue dyed horsehairs swaying in the smoke and wind, they charge into the weakened enemy, forcing their way in.

At the same time, the knights of the Royal Order of the Burnished Spur charge into Kentaire's heavy cavalry, lances forward. Their orders are to break off once this unit routs and attack the flanks and rear of others. Where some cavalry might not be able to muster it, the Spurs will, hopefully.

The drumbeat of war throbs in his chest, pounding its dreadful song against his inner ear. Veins pulse, battlecries roar, a hundred men or more die in an instant orgy of blood and battle.

And all in the thick of it, Ramius d'Arran stands like a whirlwind of violence. His blade glows red in the light of the sun and the glimmering reflection of the gore slick across its blade. He only pauses in his onslaught when he notices the men closing ranks around him. Ramius glances up, briefly confused until someone tells him the news. Ramius stares at the sergeant for a moment before his lips split in a fierce grin. "Brother, I am the only d'Arran, but I am not the only Arrani. My blood is your blood, and I will not ask you to spill it without risking my own." Argetlahm rises above the haze of battle, a beacon of light from a field of carnage. "You say that we are surrounded? Hah! Those poor bastards! They've got us right where we want them! Slash once and you'll kill two! Strike twice and you'll slay another! Fight, men! I'll be right here beside you."

"Like always," Ramius turns his sword to back to the fight. "The mountain does not fall!"

Besides, if he tries to escape on his own, he'd be a pretty easy target for all this cavalry.

Wheeling his horse around Zayne doesn't even seem to consider retreat. His unit seems to be doing decently even after the Kaedon cavalry have left the field. Zayne presses his attack blade swinging in vicious blows, some missing some leaving men bloody and broken in his wake. Still he presses on charging through the field with a determined and slightly wicked looking expression.

Still fighting as well as he can, Jarret keeps on attacking the enemy. Not paying too much attention to the rest of the field, just keeping on pressing the attack. If anyone looks at his facial expression, it looks decidedly calm.

Percy continues to fight, but even as he does not manage to do more than nick the armor of one rider, he does not sustain any further hits as well. He glances over to Jarret, now and then, and seems relieved to see the Sokar still standing and holding his own.

Myrana's shoulders hitch up and down as she catches her breath in the space provided by Ramius' men closing around them, shaking hard and spattered with blood on her left side, where the arm wielding her lightsilver cutlass is painted utterly dark. Still, she's not leaving Ramius, even if when he refuses his commander's urges to retreat causes a pained expression to flash across her spattered face. Shaking the bangs from her eyes, she casts her gaze up at him, and then past him to the farmhouse. What is in there? She fears explosives, but their forces and Kemp's (and Kentaire's) are utterly enmeshed around it; perhaps if there are charges hidden inside, they will wait for a retreat on the part of their own people to light them.

"Ramius!" She shouts to be heard over the fighting. "Are you sure?" A blast from a long cannon goes up in a cloud of yellow smoke toward the sky; a signal flare from one of her Thornesmen; she sees it and pales; they've been greviously pressed, or routed.

The battle continues, and rages in heavy fashion. The Mercenary Heavy Cavalry finds themself over extended in their fight with the D'Arran Heavy Infantry, and find themselves brutalized by a renewed energy from their Baron. But Archers and Burnished Spurs let fl and the Mercenary Cavalry turns and flees. Decimated by the enemy forces. The two sides excahnge more cannon fire. The Kentaire cannons hammering at the d'Armaz Archers, and the Arrani Artillery hammers into the Kemtaire Artillery. They find a powder magazine and the Artillery is sent up in a fireball. Effectively silencing the Kentaire Cannons and their deadly effect on the battle.

The Arrani Legion doesn't escape the caranage however. A second unit of the Argent Legion is routed from wounds suffering along with the Relient's Spearmen. Leaving the battle field as quickly as they can.

Jarret and Percival find their unit the subject of a d'Kemp mass charge, and the Spears cut into the Burnished Spurs, forcing them to panic and flee. Men around the pair of Galenthians running for their lives. One accidentlay bulls over Jarret, who is dazed and knocked semi conscious for a moment.

The Praetor picks himself up, thankfully hidden from the enemy by the cloud of black smoke that was once his Artillery emplacement. He frowns. "Signal the retreat. Once the battle is clearly over, send a white flag to the Baron Chandus and the Baron d'Arran. We will honor our agreement."

The Praetor's second looks aghast. "But. What about d'Kemp?"

Serelius takes off his helmet. "What about him? He served his purpose. We're going home."

The man nods and begins to sound the fall back.

The Enemy forces begin an orderly withdrawal. Disengaging from the battle in neat ordered lines. However the d'Kemp Spears, who had jsut routed the Burnished Spurs Pike, flee in terror at the sound of the retreat. This causes the Mercenary Infantry and Archers to throw doen their weapons to surrender, while the Kemp Militia breaks and runs as well. It is only the Kentaire forces that neatly leave the field of battle.

Jarret feels a wet sloppy feeling on his face. Then nothing. Then that wet sloppy feeling again. When he comes to, he realizes the Cow has survived the battle. He realizes this because the cow is licking his face ….

The Charing knight's sword continues to slash at the enemy, but it seems his luck turns. When he finds himself suddenly trapped between the horses of riders and no room to really evade the gladii and their bites. "Sokar!", he cries out, unable as he is currently to see where Jarret is at. His own strike misses its aim, and Percival grits his teeth, as he tries to find a way to escape this precarious situation. But… a signal is given, and it seems the enemy is on the retreat. "By the One…"

Thomas smashes into the enemy at the head of his troops, letting forth a great slash whose results he doesn't see, though he does feel a thump at the end. Pulling his sword free, he pushes his shield into the enemy Kentairish legionairies in front of him, and yells in Imperial, "Off with you, then, you scoundrels! The Unyielding Sun!" The Sun Shield Guards cheer at the sound of their house's motto. The enemy begins to retreat on all quarters. Thomas is jubilant, and still full of energy. After all, he'd only just began to fight.

"Are they retreating?" Myrana pants. "I can't… I can't see anything over you people!" The baroness is cranky, and surrounded by freakin' Arrani.

With the units retreating the ARTILLERY silences down and Lord Charwin raises a hand and signals the silencing of the guns. " Let them run." Virgil states. "We will not fire into our own forces if they pursue." he adds before grinning and quickly passing back his spyglass before removing his helm. "Well done, gentlemen."

He didn't expect to be knocked down like this. It all goes black, before Jarret realizes that there's something wet on his face. Slowly opening his eyes… he stares up at a cow. "What… Oh, hello…" he mutters, looking to the bovine, but staying where he is for a few moments. "Good to see you survived…" he offers, before rolling over so he can push himself off the ground.

Ramius glances up as he notices a change in the tide of battle. A beneficial one, perhaps, but a change none the less. The enemy is… Retreating?

……

"Well… I suppose that works too, then," Ramius sniffs, "Bit anticlimactic though, no? Ah. I should be thankful. Ahem." He yanks his sword out from a felled horse and diligently wipes the blade clean. Then he hears the mewling of a kitten and glances around, only to find… Myrana. Ramius nods and hefts her up… Onto a shoulder. "Better?" Ramius asks.

"Oh. Right. Men! Capture their fallen and hold them captive until we can sort them out. If they're belligerent, do what you will. War is hell, but there's no reason for it to be uncivilized too."

Myrana jumps in place with a fluff of white hair, trying to see, but it does zero good. Mid jump #2 she's grabbed, and deposited on Ramius' pauldron, and she does her best not to let the yelp escape her at the sudden departure from the ground. "Wh- OH! Yes!" She shades her eyes with a hand, still holding Ardaigh down with her left and away from Ramius while her heels rest on his battered-up tabard. "I can see them now: they're retreating, and Kentaire is breaking away from Kemp!"

"Where is Captain D'Rana?" Myrana twists around, grabbing Ramius' helmeted head for balance and trying to see the whole battlefield. "This is great; I can see everything." Oh no. She spots Chandus' forces and peers. "There's Baron Chandus."

"The enemy retreats! Quick, capture those surrendering and consolidate past the objective!" Thomas orders, followed by a simplied relay of this by bugle and the waving of standards up and down, side to side. With the left flank essentially finished, the Chandus Sun Shield Guards push a few yards past where they'd just finished fighting and set up a shield wall, in case this is a ruse. Meanwhile, the Burnished Spur cavalry sweep the front of the formation and screen it, setting the enemy to fully rout in this sector. In their rear, those that had actually done the heavy fighting, such as the Armaz and Black Bear infantry, Kaedon Shadow Sneaks and the archers from various houses mop up the enemy or send arrows raining upon those retreating. The mood is ebuliant.

"Indeed! It is a great fortune, you know, being tall." Ramius puffs out his chest a little bit as he finishes cleaning his sword for now, sliding it back into its sheath with some finality. "Come, Myrana. Let us go see how went the battle."

And so he makes his way, with passenger in tow, over to Thomas Chandus with a quick wave. "Baron! It seems we've survived another day."

There's a whoop! and a laugh as Ramius turns round and makes his way toward Thomas: Myrana has a huge grin on her face, currently feeling the swell of victory charging through her blood and lungs like a strong liqour. She took a wound, but it seems shallow. Adrenaline is high and better than sleep! "Baron Chandus!" She looks like she wants to giggle, but is attempting to keep at least a modicum of poise from up on Ramius' shoulder, even if it keeps threatening to bubble out of her. "Elder's Eye should be easier to take now, but I advise that we pull ourselves to a safe distance and investigate that barn there." She points with her free hand at the farmhouse. "Call me paranoid, but I'll feel better when we know what's inside."

Thomas is hardly tired at all, though he's got a little bit of blood (not his) and dirt on his armour and clothes. From behind the Chandus shield wall, he greets the arrival of the Arrani Baron and d'Armaz Baroness with a grin and the wave of his sword. It's not going away quite yet. "Well fought, Baron Ramius and Baroness Myrana! The fight was indeed close at some points, but your flank did marvelous. I was concerned… they had some very strong cavalry there. Their centre retreats, along with any other stragglers. We're just mopping up the remaining d'Kemp and mercenaries now." He quirks an eyebrow. "You want to investigate that barn? Well, yes. I suppose I hadn't considered it."

"If I were that pig-botherer Kemp, I'd put charges in it," says Myrana, stoutly and without a trace of shame in admitting such dirty wartime tactics. "Knowing we'd come through here."

"Hah! Well, it was a hard fight, but it will take more than a herd of overburdened horses to kill a division of Arrani. We've been fighting horsemen for generations, after all!" Ramius grins and gives Myrana a bit of a bump as he readjusts his shoulders to account for her weight. "The Baroness does have a point, however. That barn is rather suspicious, and I would rather like to speak to the farm's residents regardless. I'm sure they'd like to know that it's relatively safe to come out now."

Way up on Ramius' shoulder, Myrana finally lays eyes on Zayne D'Rana and waves at him. They are talking to Baron Thomas Chandus, and the enemy forces are retreating. (to catch Zayne up)

Jarret has gotten to his feet again now, leaning over to pat the cow briefly, before he moves over in the direction of where Thomas and the others are, leaning a little on his poleaxe as he moves.

Zayne and his men pull back as the enemy retreats. Riding back towards the main force the D'Rana catch sight of Myrana and spur his horse into a gallop riding up to where she and the other commanders have gathered before pulling his horse to a stop and swinging down from the saddle his blade sliding back into its sheath for now. "Well. How did we do overall?"

Myrana grins at Zayne, bloody but in high spirits. Definitely it has nothing to do with being WAY up there. Definitely. "We're going to crush Kemp flat," she says, confidently.

"Captain d'Rana, Sir Jarret! Well fought, gentlemen! I was sorry to see the Spurs pike companies bear such a heavy brunt and retreat, but all will be well when we reconsolidate. We took heavy losses, but not nearly as many as them, it would seem. And we won! One be praised!" Thomas exclaims this last, probably not even thinking that it would irritate Zayne. He is very happy. "Take the Sun Shield Guards with you, Baroness. They're still fresh."

Myrana leans down and kisses the top of Ramius' head before ruffling his blonde hair. "Now I know why everyone does that," she says. "Ahahaha-"

Zayne grins and for once he doesn't seem to mind Thomas's overzealous religious references. He merely gives the man a respectful salute and a merry grin before looking to Myrana with a smirk. "Indeed we are. I shall present you with his head. Provided your husband doesn't beat me to it." He looks to Ramius and then back up at Myrana. "You know Your Lordship. By agreeing to carry her like that…you may have created a monster." He chuckles.

Looking towards the farmhouse a thoughtful look crosses Zayne features. "Baroness. If I may make a request? Would you mind if I investigated that farm? I think it may still be occupied…or trapped with explosives. Better safe than sorry yes?"

"Eh, it's fine," Ramius shrugs. "I know how to handle monsters. What's one more? At least this one can be distracted by sweets."

Looking towards Thomas, Jarret grimaces momentarily. "Water…" he says, as he makes his way the rest of the way over. "Got any water?" Looking around, he nods a little bit, before he looks over at Zayne. "Tell them their cow is safe," he remarks.

Thomas reaches on his belt and removes a wooden canteen which he carries. "Of course. I'm happy to see you still standing."

"Please do, captain," Myrana nods. And as he's turning away, she flushes and huffs. "A monster, indeed!" But its true. It's so true.

"Ahh, maybe I'll be able to sleep tonight;" Myrana murmurs to herself, leaning her head back and sighing contentedly in the sunshine. It clearly wasn't meant to travel too far, but she's ebullient with victory and vantage. "I was feeling helpless, but now it's different. With Kentaire gone, how terrible could Kemp be?"

As he takes the offered water, Jarret starts washing his face. That's what you do after getting licked by a cow…

Zayne chuckles once again and swings himself up onto his horse. Signaling to a pair of his men he trots out towards the farm at a leisurely pace. Once he makes it to the building he marches up to the door and raps firmly upon the door. "Hello? Is anyone home? I'm very sorry if the battle came a little too close to home but its over now if you want to come out?" His voice is steady and calm and he waits for a response from within the farm with a paitent expression.

The farmer and his wife come out very cautiously, afraid. They beg Zayne politely not to hurt them, and seem just wanting to be left alone and not hurt.

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