(1875-03-10) The Battle Of Cotswold
The Battle Of Cotswold
Summary: The XIIIth Legion marches to reclaim the lands of d'Meloni. The battle plays out before the gates of Cotswold.
Date: 2019-03-10
Related: All 'firestorm' logs.
NPCs: Sir Lantis Holtis, Captain of the Lord d'Meloni's guard.
Players:
Alia  Darius  Ludovic  Maximus  

Outside of Cotswold, Qatunax Occupied Territory, Formerly County Hellsmouth.
A battered city wall, flat earth, lots of enemies.
1875-03-10

The legion marched.

Darius had gathered two cohorts from the Paras Legion, as well as eight cohorts from the XIIIth, one of which was the Prime Cohort. The group had marched under banner for a whole day before resting for the evening. The troops spent the late afternoon and early morning building a typical Empire Castrata, with it's orderly and neatly laid out structure. Each individual soldier knew their duty, which saw the creation of the Castrata take mere hours. The legion then rested, ate a hearty meal of beef and rabbit stew, and then rested.

The following day Darius allowed for a lax morning, giving the troops time to wake up, eat a small and bland breakfast, hold service to the One, and then form up. It wasn't until late morning that they moved. Cresting the hill to see Cotswold, the walls repaired and feathered banners of the Kultepex hanging over gates, or from walls. However arrayed before them was a Qatanex host. As the Empire soldiers formed up quickly they shouted and jeered.

Darius sat atop his dappled Warhorse and lowered the looking glass. "Well. We knew it wasn't going to be easy." He looks to Ludovic. "I estimate about ten thousand. Roughly half of which is slaves." He grins. "Good thing we're professionals." He closes the looking glass and nods to those here. "I'm not going to waste my breath on speeches. We're soldiers, we know our duty. Tribune d'Korbina. Once the line engages I want you to take the Legion's Cavalry and circle them. We need to prevent them from running into Cotswold. Tribune Maximus. Take your Cohort on the Left of the Prime. We're going to be the main thrust. Alia," He looks to the girl and then to the enemy. "Burn the sons of Vitches. I want it RAINING fire." He nods as he looks out to the enemy. "All other Cohorts, protect the flanks in assigned order. Support and reinforce Tribune Maximus and the Prime." He raises his glaive, the black steel of Sidhe steel somehow glinting light. "Kill the fuckers."

-

Standing on foot, Tribune Maximus marches with his Cohort. His silversteel sword in his hand and a shield in the other, he's always been one who leads by example, which means he is often a frontline fighter. Not that it halts his command skills any. But as soon as he receives his orders? It's time to march. "It will be done."

"SOLDIERS! MAKE YOUR EMPIRE PROUD!" he gets a loud grunt from all of them, as well as the standard Olympicus salute…which is a sword smashing against shield. They are here.

They fight against 10,000 strong. Might as well give 'em hell.

-

Alia had spoken little and less, for most of the journey to the the front, directing what auxillia she had brought with her, plotting the places in which their acid and fire phials would be the most useful. She had spoken when she was spoken to, but whatever the woman's thoughts were, she seemed determine to keep them to herself.

Now, they had arrived, and the expression on her face, as they crested the ridge, looking down on the town that had once belonged to her blood, was cold, hard as the granite of the hills between which the town had been built. "As you command, Praetor." Alia spurred her horse, moving over towards where they sorcerers that had been brought along on the march had aligned themselves, though she did not slip down from her horse. "We are charged with cutting them off from the safety of the walls. where they run, fire will fall, spread by the winds, the earth will crack and split. Leave them no safe place in which to hide or seek shelter."

-

Ludovic looks to Darius when he's addressed, chuckling lightly. "That we did." The added instructions he responds to with a serious nod, and an "Aye" before spurring his warhorse off to join the force in question. Riding up alongside the man who's next in line after him for the unit he looks over, grins, and then starts working his way towards the front. "Sounds like you're all following me today lads. There'll be fire on our side. Be prepared."

-

There was no argument, only a series of nods, as the sorcerers moved down along the line, a lifting of Alia's hand setting the auxillia to work. The catapults were loaded with acid, first, to support the fire, the soldiers set to the task of firing them waiting for the strike of the sorcerers. They did not have to wait long. This was the first sortie into the battle. And into the relative silence of the waiting enemies the crack and rumble of lighting in the clouds, poised on the edge to strike. Alia's hands flexed, as she looked across the distance, toward the troops aligned against them, "The slaves first, they will not withstand the flames as easily, but send your flames to every inch you can reach." A split second then, and the skies opened, but it was not clouds that broke rain upon the fields but fire that began to descend upon the Qatunax, lighting skin, and hair, and the very earth beneath their feet. Nothing was spared, as the flames descended, and the lightning struck, exploding the earth beneath the feet of the enemy. Even the ground itself seemed to shake and splinter in open rebellion. On the wind that blew towards the Legion, the scent of charring flesh and ozone, as the enemy burned and screamed.

-

BGM: https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=me8x4o2XJMo

As the Legion moves to take position the enemy forces let out one gigantic roar. The estimated five thousand slaves surge forward waving spear and cudgels and axes as the unarmored mass surges forward. Darius furrows his eyebrows and sitting atop his horse form behind the lines speaks loudly and clearly to the man beside him. "Withering Rose if you please."

The man nods and raises a pink flag. Men at the back of the formations hold up similar flags and then shout to their fellows. The front ranks of the legion set their shields. The second rank steps back and to the left, while Crossbowmen with the repeating crossbows take up position. Centurians along the line hold their rods and then drop them once men are in place and soon a steady staccato of crossbolt fire fills the air. As men reload, another man takes his place and so forth. Keeping a steady stream of fire.

Slaves are dropped by a bushel. Either killed outright, or injured and fallen to be trampled by those behind them. The repeating crossbows take a deadly toll on the unarmored foes charging them. Scorpians suddenly open up, adding the chattering of the fast firing larger repeating crossbows.

Despite the withering fire the slaves close gap and as they come in Darius nods once. "To be expected. Order Maximus's Cohort to charge. Hold the Prime in place. Once he impacts the undisciplined slaves should try to encircle. Once they do that, order the Prime forward. Have the other cohorts advance at a killing walk once the Prime charges."

The signaler nods and begins flashing a black flag in pattern. The men behind the lines nod, and pass the orders. Centurians begin to shout orders.

The Enemy reacts to the withering fire though by beginning to walk forward. These are the hardened warriors of the Kulteplex and it shows. Despite the heavy losses on the expendable slaves they barely notice. They merely walk forward. However from behind them men draw back bows, and soon answering fire is shot at the Legion.

As they land explosions and fire rock the lines. Men scream as they burn, or toss suddenly superheated shields aside. One man near Maximus takes an arrow in the throat, which explodes sending suddenly superheated blood splattering around him along with a wave of fire. Men and women scream, die and begin to fight.

Darius grits his teeth. They were using those damned Fire Arrows. "Order Ludovic's Cavalry to begin the circle. Signal Alia to try to watch her fire as the Cavalry is going in, but to NOT let up."

-

Ludovic spends a few moments explaining the orders to the other officers as they gather into a spear towards the front of the cohort, each word delivered in a crisp and somewhat old fashioned imperial. His horse, larger than most of the others, dances beneath him, agitated in a way that suggests Ludovic himself might not be as comfortable as his confident smile face might suggest. He pats at the horses neck on occasion, mindful of preserving the great steeds endurance for the charges ahead, and fiddles with the sheathed musket and czekan with the hand unoccupied by the ribboned length of his lance.

Then the order comes for the cavalry to move and Ludovic uses the lance in his hand to pass the order down the line, even as the cohorts officers do the same in the more typically imperial fashion. Ludovic sets the pace, keeping it controlled enough that the horses will still have plenty of vigor left when its required.

-

As soon as Maximus receives the order, he lets out a battlecry, and charges forward with his cohort.

"TO VICTORY!" a shout that his men completely echo, telling the enemy they are about to face a very trained unit. They smash into the slaves like this force was a battering ram, and Maximus slices down multiple slaves, along with his soldiers. "FORM THE LINE! circle in tight!" yes, because he knows the prime is quite literally coming. "Hold the line!"

-

Alia's eyes caught the signal sent to her from the corner of her eye, and her voice was crisp as she called to her small cluster of sorcerers, "The Legion is on the move, focus on the main force in the center." She glanced down the line towards the pair of earth sorcerers who were working in tandem, "If we can, let us try to pen them in, so that they cannot flee or fight where we cannot control them." Equally terse words of acknowledgment went down the line, as the flames seemed to tighten, drawing in as though by the cyclone of wind that was directing it down towards the enemy, keeping the damaging elements from the charging legion. If there had been any outside of the legion to see it, it would have been impossible to ignore the difference between sorcery as it was known in the West, and this. These were true battlemages, forged and tempered on the anvil of the Empire.

-

"Keep the line!" Ludovic bellows at one point as an errant puff of flame causes horses to briefly break ranks but otherwise the force moves with the sort of discipline that only comes from many many hours of training. Much as he wishes otherwise Ludovic is actually kind of impressed. His own men would never do this half so prettily. They do not avoid enemy attention but the crossbows amongst their ranks keep things well under control. For a moment Ludovic's hand settles on the butt of his musket, tempted to add a bullet to the fire, but in the end he thinks better of wasting it so early on.

-

The First spear an old Veteran with gray hair and one eye grins as he's given the order. "All Right lads. Show these Vitches what the Empire's finest can do! IN ORDER, CHARGE!" The Prime Cohort answers this wit ha cry of CHARGE! and raise their shields, the crossbowmen stepping back and out of the way as the prime surges forward. They smash into the men circling and hacking at Maximus's cohort and simply shatters them. The enter of the slaves begin to panic and turn to flee.

Meanwhile on the flanks the rest of the legion walks forward, killing as they go. The Crossbow men firing in lockstep with the shields in front and beside them. Centurians slap a beat on their shield with their rods and with each beat the legions steps forward, killing as they go.

The enemy however is not simply standing by. The commander screams and spreads his arms. Darius growls as he sees the man and points his Sidhe Steel Glaive at the man. A lance of white hot shoots from the tip of the Sidhe Steel and slams into the man's chest. He doesn't get a chance to scream, he simply dies with his arms wide screaming to the heavens some order in a savage tongue. He is burned to ash, and Darius holds the glaive to the side, it steaming from the heat that shimmers off it. "Order the Sorcerers. Unleash hell. Everything they have in the center of their lines. Bring the very earth against them, but watch for Ludovic's Cav, he should be charging soon."

-

Again, the order came, and Alia with her sorcerers responded, every ounce of their focus set to the task, as the wind picked up into a vortex, driving the flames which were now sheets of fire into the center of the enemy lines, bright orange and gold, shot through with the crystalline white of lightning, and under that assault, the earth itself began to not only crack and break but redden and melt. Perhaps the Qatunax and their fire masters had another way, but in this, the magic of the legion found its own way, as the ground began to slip and shimmer, not quite lava, but warm and soft as toffee already, catching the feet and burning all who stumbled and fell, those bodies almost instantly igniting like logs tossed onto the flames.

-

So, some of Maximus's cohort falls to the blades of the superior numbers. However, Maximus continues to shout orders. "HOLD THEM! With your blood and tears, they will fall on our Imperial blades!" Maximus then shield bashes a slave, only to stab him on the ground. "HOLD. THE. LINE!"

-

Ludovic holds up his lance again as he studies the events happening with the clashing infantry with a hawklike focus. "Wait for it.." He echoes of his thoughts. And then he spots it. That certain movement amongst the chaos that means its time. "None shall reach Cotswold!" His spurs dig into his stallions flanks causing the beast to explode into the charge. His lance is snapped forward so that the pennant near its tip gives that distinctive crack of cloth tearing through the wind. Tons of horse and heavily armored men smash home. Ludovic's lance breaks and he tosses it aside to replace it within mere moments with the glassy black czekan instead. Not slowing at all until the cavalry rips out the other side of the line and they start to turn back for a repeat.

-

The warriors falter for a moment when their commander is turned to blackened ash, but then they scream as one in rage and surge forward. Ludovic's cavalry slams into them even as the very elements of Tirth swirl across the battlefield. The Cavalry acts like a knife scything into the warriors. Many are simply trampled, but the lances and hand weapons of the Legion do their fair share as well. The ground shakes, the skies bleed fire.

Darius, for one moment looks at all this in fearful wonder. This was warfare on a new level. He shook his head. "All Cohorts. Advance. Kill them all. Nobody makes it to the walls. Only take Slaves prisoner." He nods and then trots forward, moving forward with the slowly advancing killing machine that is the Legion.

The warriors of the Kuteplex rush forward, and fire comes with them. Arrows fall and explode, while Flame Lances extend over lines to breath hot death on the Vir Sidus Empire's troops. Fire washes and men bathe in it. Screams fill the air. Crossbowmen shoot at fire Lance wielders when they can, but most, as is typical for the enemy, are well protected and hidden.

-

"No." Alia's voice cut like a whip, as she saw the fire lancers emerging from behind their shields, "They do not control fire today. The elements are ours." Again, her sharp order, "Eliminate them." The elements continued to descend, falling upon the heads of those who were attempting to use fire against the legion. She lifted a hand, issuing the order and the catapults sang, sending acid phials down on the the lancers which were the aim of the sorcerers. And beneath their feet, the ground melted, unable to withstand the punishing heat of the flames, grasping like quicksand onto the feet of the enemy forces, burning through boots and the bare flesh they held, the flames licking up along their legs.

-

Amidst the raging chaos of close combat, and buffeted by the sound and heat and pain of those around them, Ludovic's control of the cavalry starts slipping away. He's still a focal point about which to gather and a terrifyingly effective warrior that slams enemies aside through a brute combination of horse power and sorcerously enhanced cassiterite but it seems his own little bubble of bloody mayhem has stolen his focus. The men around him know what they are doing, and dont actually need his guidance, at this point, so the tide of the battle about them changes not one bit. Qatunax still die under hoof, crossbow and sword.

-

"Come on, we can hold 'em! PUSH!" his soldiers hold the line without question, without fail, even if a few more imperials lose their lives, five more continue the struggle! Qatunax are being slaughtered, and the Imperial line is strong. Maximus decapitates another warrior, before he's back into a defensive position, shield raised.

-

Scorpians and Crossbows answer the enemy archers who are raining arrows and explosive fire arrows as well. One ZIPS past Ludovic only to explode somewhere behind him. A horse screams in that roar. Maximus's shield rings as several normal arrows slam into it. A fire arrow erupts near him and a man flies through the air on fire in response, back into his fellow, screaming in pain and surprise.

Darius watches all of this. The Acid phials fall and splash on the enemy. A lightning bolt that hits and dances alone, scoring the ground. A scorpian crew unloads a full magazine of short spear sized bolts cutting down the enemy by the twos and threes. Another crew takes a fire arrow and the explosion destroys the Scorpian and kills or mains the crew. The Legion was holding though. They were WINNING. His eyes scan the field. No need to change orders. The Cohorts were doing what he instructed. The line pressed into the greater numbers before them.

-

Ludovic gives an angry shout when the arrow takes down a horse just behind him. He forces his own horse to come around, giving the fallen man enough cover to at least get onto his feet, as his own hammer and steed deal death to those who wanted the nameless legionnaires blood to mix with that of his horse. Somewhere down the line, whilst this is going on, fire lancers start tearing into the cavalry lines. Men and horses scream and Ludovic roars with fury himself, spurring his own horse in the direction of the lancers without any real thought for how he's actually going to counter them. He still has his musket though and that finds its way into his hands, the bullet meant to deal with the fire dealing opponents. Cavalrymen surge along with him, intent on trampling the most dangerous of foes into the heated ground.

-

The sorcerers did not let up on their barrage, though they now began to stagger the assault, Alia and one of the other fire sorcerers focusing their attention on the flame lancers' position, the other continuing the assault on the main force. The wind continued to drive the flames into the enemy bodies, swirling around them as if it could take the flame and wrap it around them like a living wall of heat and pain. And still, the earth moved, almost seeming to seek the feet of the enemy standing in the center of the firestorm, the ground seeping like thick water hissing and crackling as it moved. And now, a new terror in the midst of the storm as the earth melted deeply enough to impact the winter cold stones, shattering them and sending molten earth and rock like shrapnel into the enemy position. And still, as though to play counterpoint to the flames, lighting continued to rain down into their midst.

-

They are all going to die.

Maximus lets out a fierce cry all of a sudden, stepping forth with his shield and bashing a Qatunax right in the throat, effectively killing him via neckbreak. Another is stabbed, another sliced, another decapitated. "HOLD FORMATION! NO SURRENDER! NO MERCY!"

-

These is the sound of a horn. From somewhere. And then the horn is taken up form the warriors as if acknowledging the cry. The pattern is three simple blasts, but it's not a horn that anything in the West uses. The sound is recognizable as a horn, but unique as well. It cuts through the explosions, the rocking ground, the screams of battle and despite all these noises, rolls into the ears unhindered. They turn and flee away form the Legion, and away form the city. It's organized, but it is a retreat.

The Praetor of the Legions in the Imperial Colonies of the West, and the Princeps of the Vir Sidus Empire sighs. He looks to the signaler and nods once. "Continue firing. Kill as many retreating souls as we can. Order the Legion to hold. Signal Ludovic's Cavalry to return to the Ranks for now." The man nods ans sends the required signals.

At the city, the gates open and men, ragged, and some bleeding walk out. They hold weapons, but they lay them gently on the ground and approach the Legion with hands empty and visible. Darius looks to Alia. "See what they want. They may be your people, and they might recognize you. Take Ludovic with you." He nods once and locks eyes with her. "If they do anything suspicious turn them to ash."

-

Ludovic very nearly goes right ahead and follows the retreat despite the familiar sound of that horn. But then Darius' signal goes on top and years of training finally kick in and bring the blood splattered pair to a halt. For over a minute they just stand there, drawing air into strained lungs, and then Ludovic raises his hand and starts gathering the men back into formation. He stops when the Darius' extra instructions get imparted to him, turning his head towards the gates, and then back to the units centurions "See to the wounded. Don't forget the lancers like to hide." That bit of experience shared he nudges his tired horse so that he can meet up with Alia before she reaches the surrendering people. The pair of them, horse and man, are both well and truly splattered with mud and gore. "Alia."

-

Alia heard the command, echoing through the ranks of the Legion, as they were ordered to withdraw and finally, perhaps mercifully, the flames and wind fell to stillness, though there was nothing to be done for the flames that still lingered in the ground, or the men who were yet ablaze. Alia might have been inclined, if she had been in another mood, to set the water sorcerers to ease the burning, but that would not be now. "You are the Praetor's and will do as he bids you. But if they attack, destroy them, without mercy." Juliana nodded, awaiting the command, as Alia tugged at the reins of her horse, moving to met Ludovic as he came back. At Darius, she paused, studying his face for a long moment, her eyes never wavering from his while they spoke, "As you command, Praetor." Only when she had acknowledged him, did she meet Ludovic for the ride down to the approaching unarmed men. "Dovi." They rode.

-

Maximus looks like he's about to forge ever forwards, before suddenly, the enemy is retreating, and the order is given to halt their advance. Tribune Maximus looks upon the Centurions under his command, and he nods to them. "Keep the men in line. See to the wounded, carry them to safety if you must. I believe the battle is won….but we will see." Maximus looks like he's still raring to go, but he keeps his sword in hand, staring down the enemy.

-

"The men I rode into Paras with." Ludovic says after several long moments, his voice roughened by the after effects of all that shouting. "They were slaves a few months ago." He plucks a cloth from inside the guns sheath and takes a moment to first wipe his face and then the czekan. "If this ends up a challenge, and there's time, they might be of help."

-

Alia nodded, as she listened to Ludovic's words, "Call them from your ranks." As close as Ludovic was now to her, he might be able to see the whispers of steam dancing away from her skin in the still slightly chilly air that blew in, now that the conjured wind had died down. "If this ends up in a challenge, they will be more skulls for the bone fire." She had her orders. "May it not have to turn out that way."

-

"I'm not sure where they are." Ludovic tells Alia seriously but he turns to Brandon, who is almost certainly trailing along behind him, and sends the youth off to go see where they ended up. Ludovic's quiet after that until they get near to the surrendered peoples of Cotswold and he swings down from his saddle. The reins he just loops about the saddle horn, seeming confident that the horse wont stray, and then he looks to see what Alia's doing. Only then, with Alia alongside, does he approach.

-

Alia, for her part, did not seem to want to dismount, but as Ludovic did, so did she. Unlike Ludovic, who looked every inch the soldier who had faced down a legion, Alia was pristine, head held high, shoulders straight, the sheen of her armor, the leather of her clothes untouched. The sword she bore, a gift given so long ago by the Princeps was at her hip, her hand resting lightly on the inlaid hilt as she came upon the group that seemed to have come for parlay. "Speak."

-

The lead man squints at Alia and hen breaks into a broad grin. "Lady d'Meloni!" He says. He gestures to himself. "It's me, Captain Holtis, I was you father's Guard Captain." He takes a deep breath and lets it out. "Thank the One, we thought you died with the others." He runs a hand through his hair. "When the house fell, they knocked out as many soldiers as they could. Wanted us to lead the Slave soldiers they brought in since we knew the land. They wouldn't teach us their damn tongue, but they knew ours with almost no accent. So did the hordes of slaves they brought us. We had a plan that if Aequor sent help we'd take the gates. These savages know nothing about siege warfare my lady, they left only twenty people. And all of them at the gate." He gestures to the retreating enemy, still visible on the plains. "I mean. They didn't even bother to try and fall back to the city walls for protection!"

He blinks behind Alia. "Um. My Lady? Is the Empire allied with Aequor now? Cuzz all I see is imperial banners …. "

-

Ludovic lets the haft of his czekan settle onto the ground. "That how you survived is it Captain Holtis?" Ludovic's coat of arms is rather blatantly displayed on both shield and surcoat, identifying him clearly as the youngest son of Rousseau even as the horns on his helm identify him as one of the horned knights. "By leading their soldiers?"

-

Alia's face had not seen a smile since they had left the outskirts of Paras, but the sight of a familiar face brought the edge of one to Alia's expression, a light of recognition in her face. "Uncle Lantis?" He was not, in point of fact, her Uncle, but the Alia of long ago had had a penchant for adopting those she loved. And this was one whom the girl she had been had loved as if he were family, "How are you, any of you still alive? Surely they must have occupied the city. Who all remains here? Surely you have not survived such an occupation unscathed? What men of the enemy are within the city?" At the question of the Empire, Alia glanced from Holtis' face to the men who had come out with him. "It is the Empire and not Aequor who has come to see to the freeing of d'Meloni and all who remain within its boundaries. Let us say, the Empire and Aequor are not allies, but they are also not at war. And what they have freed, they claim. I owe my allegiance to their Princeps, and he is a just and fair man." As for Ludovic's allegiances, she left that to him.

-

The man nods. "They wouldn't let us leave these walls until they thought we were on board with fighting for them." He pinches the bridge of his nose. "So we played along. Over time they let us carry weapons. We worked at night to try and undermine the heathens. When your army showed up, we drew straws to see who would lead them badly, while the remainder stayed to try and get the gates open for you." He takes a deep breath. "Given what we saw, I'm certain we'll find those brave souls dead on the field."

But he looks to Alia and smiles. "One above, it is good to see you girl. They occupied and enslaved us. Any who could fight were drilled for their slave army, a lot of the city's men actually believed their drivel of a free life. You just had to serve THEM, as worse than Peasants. But the populace is here, and after we took the gates, my men began to organize the populace to rush out and help trap them. But they fled. We had expected to be fighting with rocks and pointed sticks to keep them off the walls."

-

Ludovic turns his head to stare over at the city gates, looking awfully suspicious. "You wont mind if I go take a look then."

-

The Man shakes his Head. "Not at all. You'll find things as I have said. The dead warriors are inside to the left of the Gate. We piled them there. We used maces."

-

"And you, Uncle. I did not think I would see any of your faces again." But there was a question on the woman's lips, which came in the moment after, "Am I all that remains of the family then?" She had imagined she was, but some part of her needed confirmation. "Ludovic. Can you send a messenger to the Praetor? Tell him the news and ask if he would be willing to send some of the forces in to see to the securing of the city. And if he wishes, he and his guard may come to meet what remains of my household."

-

Ludovic's intent to go inside is halted by Alia's words. "I'll go tell him myself." he offers instead. "You've a lot to catch up with."

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