(1875-07-07) The Battle of Rogers
The Battle of Rogers
Summary: The combined forces of the Empire, Arkanin, and Tarris wage their assault to reclaim Rogers and the Paras Farmlands. They face enemies greater than the Qatunax.
Date: 2019-07-07
Related: Firestorm generally.
NPCs: Jeremius Spurius RIP (NPCed by Ivo), Teleko, Tavat (NPCed by Darius), Many, many vampires and undead.
Players:
Alia  Brennart  Cervantes  Darius  Ofrider  

Tavat  Vampire  

Kultepex Territory - Route to Paras
A land of once lush hills and life. Now scorched and salted. Burned and bloodied. Hills and rises provide ample spots for ambushes, while the stench of ash and copper seems to prickle at the senses all too often.
1875-07-07

Months of planning and gathering troops and materials had finally come to fruition. Four Cohorts of the 13th Legion, with a Cavalry Cohort in depth marched toward the farmlands of Paras, and the lands of Rogers. At the same time troops from Galenthia marched marched north in a pincer maneuver to reclaim their land.

But the Qatunax had not allowed this movement to go unseen.

The great Warchief Tavat had mustered his warriors and had summoned every warrior slave in the Melkete to him. He had armed them with warclubs, spears and atlatls. He had summoned all the fire priests, and the other craft users of the elements to counter the Imperial strength in the Craft. It was the one thing the Imperials were more skilled at, but they would NOT go unchallenged this time as they had the last few battles.

The Blood God Teleko had said he would handle the Southern forces from Galenthia. And Teleko had strode off alone. This would worry Tavat if Teleko had not been a god. Surely those forces would face the wrath of the Divine, and they would be destroyed.

As the Imperials crested the hill to the valley Tavat smiled. That was not his problem. His problem had arrived and he would deal with these Imperials. He lifted his Obsidian Axe, treated by the Craft high and let out a whoop. It was answered by his warriors and then the Slaves surged forward.


Darius crested his hill at the front of his men on his Warhorse. He narrowed his eyes as he saw the huge numbers arrayed before them and cursed softly. This was going to be a very, very brutal fight. Where in the name of the One did these monsters even GET these numbers? Where they fucking rabbits pretending to be human? It didn't matter, especially when he heard the whoop, and the slaves began to charge. "LEGION! FORMATIONS!" He cried as he reigned in his Warhorse. Galta reared and pawed the air with her hooves, her tail swirling as he did so. He pointed his Glaive at the enemy, who had seemingly gotten the drop on the legion, "WITHERING ROSE! FIRE!"

All at once the Repeating crossbows unleashed on the masses of charging slaves, sending wave after wave of crossbow bolts into the advancing enemy. At the same time, the Legionnaires of the 13th formed a shield wall, Preparing to receive the charge. Darius looked over his shoulder as the troops formed up in front of him. "Alia. We need - " His head snaps to the battle as he, and all the other Sorcerers of the 13th feel it. Magic. A lot of magic. Wind swirls sweeping aside the first volley of Crossbows. "Vitches!" He curses. "Alia, find those damn Sorcerers and kill them. With those numbers AND Magic … " He doesn't finish the sentence. "The Legion will buy you time."


Teleko stood on a hill looking at the Galenthians. He sensed the Order of the Vigil. He knew, one among them was a member of the Order as surely as he could sense the individual heart beats of every man in the Galenthian Army. He couldn't take them all by himself. That was true. But he wasn't alone, not really. He sent a mental pulse and they arrived. His Master and Secondary Vampires. They came out of shadow, materialized out of mist, or rose from the ground near him. The Five Masters knelt, while the one hundred Secondary looked hungry. Teleko smiled. "We must destroy this army."

The First Master grinned, his Canines showing. "We'll need one of our own Ancient One."

Teleko chuckled. "It's a good thing so many people have died in these lands then, is it not?" And then he raised a hand.

The Ground shuddered, so much so that the Galenthians felt it. Then all around Teleko and his One Hundred and Five Vampires the dead rose. Hundreds, thousands, claws their way out of the dirt, or unburied themselves from the moss and debris that had buried since the battle to take these lands. Ancient skeletons, rotting walking dead both rose and formed ranks. Weapons rusted but still serviceable. Armor clattered on bones, or scrapped against rotting flesh and then they advanced.

A wall of the dead moved toward the Galenthian forces, their lifeless eyes locked and hungering for battle once more. Teleko nodded. "Support them." He said to the one hundred Secondary Vampires. "Feed, and drink well." He put a hand out to stop the Master Vampires from moving. He looked at their leader, the eldest among them, Frederick. "The Order of the Vigil is here. Find whomever it is, and kill him."

Frederick smiled and dissipated into mist with the other four Master Vampires.

-

Alia was not on foot today, but neither was she on the sweet-natured palfry that she tended to use for her daily rides. Instead, she had requested one of the warhorses, the smallest and nimblest she could find and she accompanied Darius as they road out with the rest of the Legion. Her expression was grim and it did not improve as she saw the sheer number of forces arrayed against them. To Darius' order she gave no response save a nod, though, in the few sends she had remaining close to him, she reached out to touch his arm. "Come back to me, Princeps." That was an order.

"Auxillia, with me!" Alia tugged at the reins, moving to a point where she could see the forces arrayed against them more clearly.

-

Jeremius Spurius, a long serving Optio in the XIII Legion had taken great care to ensure his lorica and gladius were shining like the very sun itself. It was a habit he'd got into a long time ago before battles, and it had become almost a superstition for him. It also helped pass the hours of the night before a large battle, since he found it hard to sleep at such times. Presenting his troops to the Centurion he noted that they we eager for the fight and soon enough they were lined up in formation, close to Darius himself. Pride, anticipation then determination as hordes of slaves rushed their position and their shields locked together to prevent them breaking the line. The sheer weight of numbers was like nothing he'd seen before though, and as well drilled as his cohort was it was hard work to keep the mass of attackers at bay.

-

Artorius brought all that he could muster, with forces numbering more than 2,000 souls. But when he saw the darkness rise from the death of those who had come before, He seems to narrow his eyes.

"SENTINELS! Schiltron formation!" And the entire front line of Arkanin soldiers lift there spears and their shields, becoming the hard wall they are known for.

"Archers! Rain arrows upon them! They could use the shade!" and the Wolves of Murias take their positions behind the elite heavy spear men and let fly their arrows. Despite the tension..the fear of the dead, there is…laughter from Galenthian forces. Let no one say the Viscount doesn't have a grim sense of humor.

This was going to be a hard fight…but the world will remember them.

-

The Tarris army has arrayed themselves in a fairly standard formation. Shields up front, spear behind them and ranged holding the flanks while the cavalry is staged behind for flanking and the charge. Brennart is dressed in his full fantastic plate Reckoning resting across his thighs as he looks over towards the enemy… HOLY CRAP IS THAT AN ARMY RISING OUT OF THE GROUND. The men start to sway nervously when Brenn starts to ride along his lines, "Hold the line! This is the foul sorcery the Church has talked against. We've fought against worse before we will win this day!" Then he orders his troops forward the living clashing against the dead… And the living find that the dead are harder to kill a second time.

-

Alia's auxillia were trained, and they did as they were ordered. Clouds quickly gathered across the fields of battle, harsh rain needling down onto the gathered enemy troops. The crack of thunder broke across the sound of the battle, and lighting flashed. But it did not find it's intended target. Instead, it arced across the field as though it were being lobbed as easily as a spear, striking not far from that warhorse and its small rider, exploding the ground bare feet from where Alia was, the spray of rocks cascading up and against the woman, the force of the chunk of stone that hit her shoulder nearly knocking her from her horse. She only just managed to rally, her eyes narrowing as she focused on the field ahead, "Defensive magicks, deflect their attacks and focus on locating them!"

-

Perhaps the only warrior among the mercenary company wearing the famed blackened steel of the house of Reine, a sword on his shoulder, his shield in front of him with the others. Its hard to see what happens with his helmet when the dead rise, but he growls. His blade gleaming as he prepares with the others, taking the brunt of the weight like any man here as he yells, in fear and in rage, perhaps both go hand in hand? He swing furiously in a graceful arc as three heads go flying as he steps forward, yelling a wordless warcry, a trait left over by his barbarian ancestors, shield up and sword at ready to hack the next challengers down who dare face the tiny dragon of Reine.

-

The slaves slam into the Legion lines, a tidal wave of human flesh that is preceded by a wave of javelins thrown by the ataltl's. Men scream and hundreds die in that first embrace of battle, but the Legion holds strong. Darius rides up and down the lines, behind his men glaring at the enemy. Wishing he could be on the front with them. That was, however not his place. Not today. Today was too important to risk himself, and he had too much work to do to risk the Empire with his fall. He wouldn't be like the foolish Emperors of the past throwing their lives away, as much as he wanted to be there with his men. "Fight on! Show these Bastards what it means to face the wrath of the Imperial Legions! For the Empire! FOR ASTERREA!!" He looked at the nearest signaler, following their Princeps as close as they dared. "Signal the Ranged, they're useless there. Half to move the flanks, half to fall back to the top of the hill. Targets of opportunity. Signal the Cavalry to prepare to support the flank the enemy tries to eliminate."


Tavat watched the Imperial lines. Typical. Strong walls of steel supported by their magics and damned repeating crossbows. He watched as they redeployed their crossbowmen to the flanks protected by a thin line of shields. "Send the young warriors to that flank." He says and points with his Obsidian Axe. There is an answering whoop as they surge forward. Let the younglings prove themselves against whatever the Imperials send to defend their ranged. He looked up as it began to rain. Slow at first but then turning into a heavy down pour. He frowned. That might affect the fire. Still. "Fire Archers. Loose."

In answer to Tavat's orders the archers let loose a wave of their explosive fire arrows. They hit the Imperial lines with concussive force, shattering shields and bodies and sending fire over the lines. The air cracks with thunder above and explosions below.


Teleko watches as the larger dead force slams into the ranks of the Tarris banners. He smiles. That was where he sensed the Vigil one. His undead soldiers tear silently into the human forces, the only sounds the Humans screaming as they are killed, Then his Secondary Vampires strike. They ride steeds with eyes bleeding blood and hair of dark red. For too long the Blood Mares of the Vampires had slept, but with Magic back they were awoken. They rode into the Arkanin and Tarris lines, fifty each, hewing death in their wake and sowing terror. He narrowed his eyes and smiled. "The living shall die this day."

-

With his Century holding against the mass of slaves, but making no ground, Jeremius Spurius grumbled to himself and took a look round to see if there was anyway to turn the tide. As the Princeps rides behind he joins the cry of "For Asterrea!" along with those around him, and it gives them momentum to push forwards. There's no real gain to it though, and they're back to the stalemate soon enough, It does shift his position in relation to their foe though, and he spots someone who appears to be driving the slaves on. "For the Empire!" he calls as he surges forward to engage the opposing officer, although once again he can manage nothing more than a stalemate, with neither of them able to get past the defenses of the other.

-

Alia's eyes narrowed, as she hunted, in that way that she knew without knowing how to do. With that part of herself that was magic and that felt magic around her. "Fire arrows!" They were already ablaze in the instant before the Qatunax fired, and she lifted a hand, "Draw that fire! Harden the rain!" Juliana, the fire sorcerer who had served as Alia's teacher for so long, but was, on the field, one of the auxillia, did as she was ordered, the fire sorcerers in the grouping summoning their own power, the fire that plagued the legions and lit the arrows of the Qatunax drawn up in a dance as if they sought some other target, only to be put out by the rain that continued to pelt down. As the rain increased a single bolt of lightning found its target, the scream of the sorcerer it struck down lost in the melee. A bright spot of magic winked out.

-

Riding back and forth Brenn calls out having the Dragon Claws push into the weakening lines then he turns pointing at the cavalry riding into his troops, "Heavy Lancers Charge!" He points over towards the horse archers, "Harry their flanks thin those numbers!" Then he turns back towards the battles looking at those Blood Mares and shakes his head pointing at them with Reckoning, "I'll find your masters and kill them you vile affronts to humanity."

-

Ofrider raises his shield as a rusty sword comes down, head turning with the clanking of metal, perhaps finding something that commands these rotten heretical hordes of the dead. He curses as he knocks a sword away, using his shield as a ram to advance forward with the group, stabbing one as he steps over the body, sword back to his shoulder in a cocky manner as he readies himself for another charge, rain splattering the black steel turning it into an oily color, dark as night.

-

Cervantes is running the lines on horseback, keeping his men inspired while also getting a feel for the entire battle situation without standing in one place (also to avoid being an easy target from any ranged fighters).

But as the Sentinels move forward, his lines are starting to get BASHED by secondary vampires. "HOLD THE LINE! Push these demons back into the Abyss!"

His soldiers fight hard, but Galenthian blood has officially been spilled, and hopefully this is something that can be quickly recovered from.

-

A mist settles on the battlefield near Brennart. It is cold and …. Otherworldly. A voice whispers through the din of battle. "Now you die Vigil." A man screams as his throat is torn out, the blood spraying bright red through the mist. Three figures emerge, one of them has blood dripping from his jaws and clawed hands. One of them has twin longswords, also coated in blood, and the third an Axe. The one with the swords points at Brennart. "Now you die Vigil."

With that, all three of them charge Brennart. The one with just his hands leaps slashing at the Tarris Knight's face. The One with the Axe charges to the left sweeping toward his midsection, while the one with the twin longswords rushes to engage him directly, bloodied blades flashing in a deadly dance of skill that only hundreds of years of battlefield experience can give one. Somewhere in the mist surrounding the Tarris forces, Brennart hears two things. The first is Varian's voice taking command on the front as the Mist settles over the Tarris lines. The second is hooves thundering toward him.

-

The Arkanin forces suffer under the charge of the Blood Mares but are still holding. Men scream and horses add their own to the sounds. The Tarris lines, led by Varrian surge into the undead, his sidhe steel longsword flashing form the front as the Bloodclaws cleave into the undead supported by the Tarris Lancers. Then, to Cervantes' eyes, the Tarris lines dissapear as a heavy fog envelops them. He can hear the sounds of combat. Or horses charging, of orders being given and of men dying, but he can't see what is happening.

-

The Vir Sidus Lines push back. Beginning to walk forward in lock step and cut down slave after slave. When the Younglings charge the right flank, the Vir Sidus Cavalry Cohort crests the hill and slams into them, crushing them beneath hooves and cutting them down with glaive and spatha. Circling wide, the mounted crossbowmen begin to harass the main body of the Qatunax, sending bolts through the rain against them.

-

Tavat narrows his eyes. "Fire Lances." He says calmly then watches as the men come forward unleash flame on the cavalry and infantry alike. Rivers of the stuff wash over the Vir Sidus lines, but something unforeseen happens, as a unit breaks THROUGH the flames unscathed and begins to murder the Fire Lance wielders. Tavat grunts. "Send in the Warriors."

At that order men in actual heavy armor wielding their strange clubs with the steel spikes like daggers surge forward and impact the lines inflicting their own losses on the mess. "Continue to rain fire with arrow, Craft and lance. Add the slingers with their vials. Purge them with holy flame. Burn them and cleanse them with the divine power of the Gods."

-

The push of the Imperial cohorts seems to surprise the salves around Jeremius Spurius. There's a lot of scrambling from the enemy ranks, and a lot of screaming, but right now he's too focused on the enemy officer to pay attention to the situation in general. He trusts the men at his sides to take care of that for him, they're trained together, and fought together over the years, they'll guard his flank. Safe in that knowledge of their protection he surges forward himself, catching the officer off guard by ramming his shield into their face, followed by a vicious gladius blow into their dominant shoulder. He hears the collarbone give with a satisfying crack, and the man in front of him screams in agony, but he's not dead yet.

-

Alia knew danger when she saw it, even as her heart rallied, seeing the unit which her alchemists had protected break the line. Flame. There was always more flame, but it was not yet time to strike. Now was the time to hold the line and to steal away their most dangerous weapon. If she could only keep up the rain, if she could force the sorcerers to flag. "Again! Keep that flame from our legion!" Rain and some otherworldly hand continued to douse the flames, pulling and drawing the dangerous element from the lines as one would pull an infected tooth. Though she could not see it, one of the vortexes of flame swirled around one of the enemy sorcerers, as it sought the sky, the rainwater that soaked his clothing flashing into steam and boiling the man alive, his body falling dead on the muddy ground.

-

Now we're talkin!

Cervantes makes a signal with his hand. "Halberdiers! Line up behind the Sentinels, assist them!" And sure enough, the line starts to move forward at a steady, but slow march, cutting down the dead and the blood mares that come against them. Its clear that they are doing solid morale damage to the enemy, but Cervantes also sees the unit be lost in the fog.

….It was just like at that one battle! Where a mysterious mist rolled in.

"Keep moving forward! You are the Masters of War! PROVE YOUR WORTH!" and sure enough, the Arkanin's let out a battlecry that is heard far and wide, and they push onward despite the terror they face from the enemy.

-

Ofrider looks about as the mist closes in around him, he grumbles as he looks about for an enemy. Which he finds…is unrotten? Must be one of those necromancer things. He yells in challenge as he swings at the man…with fangs? Fuck it, he's seen enough crazy shit today, everything dies the same anyway if you stab it enough times. He dodges nimbly as a sword comes down. Taking the opportunity, he cuts the thing across the chest, getting close enough to look into its eyes "I'm sending you back to your gods, pray, for you'll need it where your going." he growls down at the vamp as it swings again, he parries it with his shield, backing up while growling, sword at ready kill the bastard.

-

In the swirling mists Ofrider finds a man in Dark Red Steel wielding an ornate Great Sword. When he engages the man, he sees the flash of elongated canines and the two exchange a rapid series of blows. The Man, a master Vampire wields the Greatsword with terrible ease, as if it was made of paper. He is fast and he is deadly but he is overconfident. When he finally notices that Ofrider is wielding Sidhe Steel, it is too late and he screams in rage and visible pain, as it pierces his shoulder. He narrows his eyes. "Mortal. I will drink your blood and claim the Black Steel for myself. I will then hunt down all with your name and drink their blood slowly while torturing them. It will be YOUR FAULT!"

He then unleashes a series of attacks that would make even the hardiest warriors of Tirth afraid.

-

Teleko smiles as he watches the battle. He can see the fight through the eyes of his Vampires, but it takes all his control to keep the dead standing so he can't lead them. That's the Secondary Vampires' jobs. The battle is going well here, but is failing on the front of his mortal Subjects, the Qatunax. "The living are useless." He mutters.

No matter. Let this Princeps think he's winning. For now.

-

That Princeps rears his horse and points with a Glaive. "Steady the Line there! Don't advance too far. Keep Formation! You're an Imperial Legion Not a bloody Western Militia!" Centurions nod and lay about with their batons, or grab excited soldiers to keep them from advancing too far. Darius, for his part casts his eyes over the battlefield. Through the rain it appears to be going well. Very well in fact. Though they've just begin, the enemy far outnumbers them. He can't see Alia from his position, but he heard from a signaler a Sorcerer had fallen. "Be safe Alia." He whispers then goes back to ordering the troops. A stead advance. It's all they can do right now.


On Cervantes front, the dead are stalled a little, but are still pressing. Silently they advance, the only sound form the enemy are the clash of weapons, or from the secondary Vampires who laugh and scream in rage at their mortal foes. More than one rides past a soldier to snatch him up and drink his blood before tossing the dried dead husk into the ranks of their fellows.

-

Jeremius Spurius line is now too far from Darius to hear him directly, but the orders to keep tight in formation get passed along through the ranks to the front by way of cornu. "Tighten it up!" he calls to those around him. It's not really needed, but when an order is passed along, you obey it. This time though, he'd've been better waiting a moment to relay it as his opponent is adept enough to use that momentary distraction to get in a stab of his own. The worst of it is taken in his lorrica, but if his ribs aren't cracked from the force then they're certainly bruised.

-

Alia called out an order, "Heat the rain!" This was magic such as they had not had to use before, and it was a risk she would at least take once." It would seem, though, that the Qatunax had added more than their fire sorcery to the ranks, as the steam cloud that she and her fire mages sent at the enemy was caught between her auxillia and their sorcerers and both sides took losses. Alia shook her head, fighting the urge to see for where Darius might be on the field. She had made a mistake. She could not afford another.

-

Brennart wheels his horse around as the mist starts to settle in around the Knight and he sighs sliding off the horse and slapping it's rump with his shield to drive the animal away. Then as the figures emerge from the mists he turns face the the three master vampires and as they speak to him he shakes his head, "Your time is long over beasts. I'd ask the One for mercy on your souls but I don't believe you have one anymore." As they charge in on him the knight's shield catches the axe pushing it down and away Reckoning sliding up and into the throat of the weaponless vampire black ichor that should have been blood pouring out of the mortal wound. Spinning the knight brings his sword around trapping the axe with his shield before impaling the axe wielder with his sword. But then he struggled long enough to remove his sword from the second vampire that he's unable to block or dodge the twin sword attacks, "Bugger off beast. You'll join your friends soon enough."


Brennart is unable to see what is happening to his forces, but he can hear the battle raging around him. That, and well, he has his own problems. The First two attackers die in a magnificent series of sword moves by Brennart, but the Master Vampire wielding the Longswords manages to dance in and strike a blow. "Skilled. It is so rare we find one of your kind who is skilled. The Vigil chose well." He says as he presses his attack. Then dives to the side as a Master Vampire on a Blood mare rides for Brennart with a Lance couched and aimed for the Tarris Knight.

As the Blood Mare Passes the Vampire with the Long Swords leaps back in, slashing again for Brennart, his smile wicked and full of mirth. "I think after I kill you Brennart Tarris, I'll find Bethany, turn her and make her my immortal wife. Then, she not only dies with her soul condemned to the pits, but you die knowing she belongs to me for eternity." He laughs maliciously as he presses his attacks, his words conversational and not the last bit worried about the man in front of him.

-

Oh shit.

The vampires grab up more than a few of Cervantes's men, turning them into dried out husks, drained completely of their blood.

But Cervantes quickly dismounts his horse and draws his greatsword. "ARCHERS! LIGHT YOUR ARROWS!"

Then, it was as if the sky was lit up from an early sunrise, streaks of flaming arrows sailing through the skies to wreak havoc (hopefully) upon his enemies.

Arkanin archers were always precise in an uncanny way when it came to large-scale battles. Here's hoping that the vampires get the clue that none of them will survive this fight if Cervantes has any say in it.

"SENTINELS! push forward!"

-

The flow of the battle continues back and forth around Jeremius. The rain, the Qarunax fire, the steam, everything is all subsumed into the great rolling mess that is the front line. He feels the soldier on his left go down, but before he can react another has stepped into the gap created and is introducing slaves to their gladius. "For the Empire!" he calls, projecting all the way from his diaphragm, then moves to engage the enemy officer once more. The exchange of blows is furious, but the other is getting tired, and after a flurry of feints he manages to slash his gladius across their neck, finishing them off. A cheer goes up from the legionaries around him and they push forward as one, shoulder to shoulder, perfectly in step, and the enemy falter in front of them. For now at least.

-

Alia wheeled her horse around, studying the line of battle. The hard expression on her face was as sure a sign as any that she was fighting against the fear and worry that was coursing through her. She tightened her hand on the reins, feeling the signet cut into her finger. It would not be all she had left of him when the day was over. But, the trouble with rain was that it both made the enemy using fire difficult and exhausting but also hampered her own efforts and those of her sorcerers. Thankfully, she had studied well at the feet of her teacher as well as her husband, and she glanced to Juliana and the other flame sorcerers, "There is fire in this ranks. Find it, ignite it, render their weapons useless!" Perhaps they might not win this day, but she would be certain to show them the error of their ways.

The auxillia nodded, seeking for that element which spoke to them and along the line of the enemy flames bloomed, arrows exploded, fire slings burst into fireballs. Alia only wished she could hear the screams.

-

Ofrider chuckles at the vampires insults, but says nothing else as he parries the blows. His eyes going wide with adrenaline, with….power! His blood boiling, a smile coming to his face beneath the metal helmet, but he calms himself as he narrows dodges multiple fatal blows, barely blocking a swing that pushes him back a couple of feet. He coughs at the force, his armor dented. He readies his sword with a grimace, it seems that feint was a fluke after all.

-

The Knight of the Vigil (Brenn) looks at the vampire with the twin longswords and chuckles, "You /dare/ to threaten my wife?" He blocks the vampire's attacks with his shield then his eyes almost twinkle as he hears the other vampire charging in on a horse… Stepping to the side he brings his sword up and slices it along the side of the mounted vampire, "Get your ass down on the ground." As he rolls back up to his feet he faces the two of them keeping his shield between him and them Reckoning pointed at them as he circles keeping them in front of him as best he can. Having heard Varian taking control of the army he trusts that the maniac will handle the battle until this is settled.

-

The Qatunax begin to falter, which isn't helped by the slaves turning tail and running when their Warrior Leader is slain. Tavat screams a battle cry and surges forward with his own elite guard. They slam into the Imperial lines, scattering what was left of the slaves in their passing. Tavat and his Warrior Guard physically LEAP over the Imperial Lines and Tavat, whose aim was true tackles the Princeps off his horse, slamming his Obsidian Crafted Axe into the Princeps's Sorcerer's Lorrica as they slam into the ground.

The Princeps Rolls to his feet, scooping up his Black Steel Glaive, which ignites with holy fire. In Imperial Tavat says, "You have no right to that Flame. That is for the Divine. You profane the Gods with your abuse of it's gift."

Darius hisses at the terrible wound in his shoulder and replies through blood drenched and clenched teeth. "Oh shut up and fight you savage fucker."

The two begin to clash, while Tavat's Elite Guard lays about around him, keeping others away form the Princeps and the Warchief in their struggle.


Somebody screams that the Princeps has been killed in the battle line. One of the Tribunes assuming command of the battleline. But word reaches Alia as a sense of panic begins to filter through the lines. Not just panic though. Rage. Rage that they would dare attack their commander.


Teleko smiles as he sees Tavat go for the throat of his enemy. Perhaps that one would make an excellent Master? No matter for now. We'll see if he survives. To help that Teleko whispers words old and ancient, and all of the dead of this battle against the Imperial, Imperial Soldier and Qatunax alike begin to rise to attack the Living Imperial soldiers.

-

The master fighting Ofrider strides forward, raising his blade to lick Ofrider's blood off the blade. "You're keeping me from my target whelp. But you show skill. Die with the satisfaction that you COULD have been a great warrior had you not met me." Then he raises his Great Sword to strike at Ofrider.

-

The Two masters circle Brennart, each feinting to try and get the Vigil's attention so the other can strike. Their weapons flash in and out, trying to find purchase on the man. To find a weakness in his defenses and end his life. Or at last slow him long enough that he'll bleed ot death.

-

Cervantes's forces slam into the Dead and the strangest thing happens.

They begin to fall.

Just like that they begin to falter and go back to being, well, dead. The Secondary Vampires ride toward the mist, leaving the slightly mauled Arkanin Forces to wonder what to do now….

-

The cheers of the troops around Jeremius increases and the slaves finally break, and it's only the discipline that's been drilled into them over the years that stops the line from breaking to give chase. Instead the centurion orders them forward in link step once more, which means they're stepping over corpses as they start to rise. Fortunately, said centurion doesn't panic, or at least not outwardly, and the Century is ordered to pull back to clear ground so they can fight with the enemy in front of them, not amongst the ranks. That doesn't stop a few enterprising soldiers sticking their gladiuses in as they step over the newly dead though, just to make sure, and in that manner he himself takes out two of them as they start to rise: one slave, one legionary. Grim.

-

Alia was not a woman given to rage, but then, it was not every day that word came that she might have lost the most important thing in her world. And that rage exploded out of her as she signaled for her auxillia to attack. And they did. Fire…fire, white and incandescent exploded along the enemy line, vaporizing not only the Qatunax from which it had been stolen, but the undead which had risen, ashes clouding the ground as they disintegrated.

But Alia was not done. If she had truly lost Darius, well, she was still the Princepsa and her voice rose, her words carried along the line, "We are the Thirteenth Legion and we do not fall. Avenge our dead and send these vitches to their deaths!" Alia swung her horse around, drawing her lightsilver gladius, keeping behind the defensive line of the legion but seeking for sign of the last place she knew Darius to be, "Hold the line, fight for the Empire! We will have our victory!"

-

The riders led by Cervantes head into the mist, but not before Cervantes gives the order for the rest of his army to follow in their formations.

But Cervantes is jumped! His men take a severe beating and a good number of his men are killed in brutal fashion…even Cervantes is wounded by a blood rider, but not before repaying the strike with his own. This is bad!

-

Ofrider Roars as he charges in, but he's truly not consumed by his rage as he ducks and doges perhaps more gracefully then a man in armour could as he slices at the vampires belly before nimbly ducking and stepping to the side, eyes balefully glaring at the vampire as he goes dead silent, sword dripping the vampires own blood as he gets ready for another greatsword barrage, shield up as he puts his sword on his shoulder in patient waiting.

-

Brennart circles around until he gets the twin long swords master right where he wants him. With a quick slash of Reckoning he removes the vampire's head from his body and as the head bounces on the floor he looks at it, "Kill me beast?" Then he adjusts his focus completely on the sword and axe vampire jabbing his sword between the monster's guard inflicting a bit of an injury on the vampire. "Going to send you back along with your friends."

-

Teleko snarled slightly and tied off the spell. It would give the undead a time limit but he had to take matters into his own hands as his underlings were failing him. Again. He looks first to the Imperial lines and senses each strand of Sorcery being weaved and wielded like a blunt force instrument. "Pathetic Children." He says and moves his hands in an intricate pattern then presses his palms toward the Imperial Lines.

All at once magic flows back and inverts toward the Imperial wielders. Fire's burn a hellish purple as they come back and explode at the Imperial lines. Lighting turns black as it rains down. Ice, tinged with black hellish veins rains from the heavens and the wind howls a terrible dirge of fear and darkness as the clouds begin to swirl and blacken.

Teleko nods, satisfied with that spell and then turns to look at the Vigil. He cans ee the fight. He watched as Frederick fell and tsked. Then he stepped into the mist and disappeared as he drew Drinker…

-

The Remaining Master Vampire snarls as Frederick dies. "I suppose I should thank you for the promotion. Let me show you my gratitude!" And then he hurls himself at Brennart. Sword and Axe weaving a deadly dance as the two clash in the rain and the mist.

Darius and Tavat clash, Sidhe Steel against magically sealed Obsidian. Fire flashes with each strike as do sparks and not a little bit of blood from Darius's wound. Tavat Kicks and Sends Darius sprawling into the mud where he slides a good five feet on his back, but Darius isn't finished, and presses out wiht his palm to send a piercing line of fire in Tavat's direction.

The Warchief raises his shield and it impacts there, Tavat leaning into the strike as it pushes him backward in the mud. When the blast is finished Tavat tosses his shield aside, it being little more than slag. Then he charges the Princeps who is just getting to his feet.


The Secondary Vampires on the Blood Mares maul the incoming Arkanin Cavalry with whoops and hollars. Riding through the chaos as if they were born to it. But Cervantes isn't alone as the Blood Claws slam into the rear of the enemy cavalry, led by Varian Reine, Viscount under the Tarris banner. He slices a Blood Mare's head off and then engages a second calling to Cervantes, "It's devolved into a free for all. We can't see shit in here. Try to circle to the left flank!"

-

As the magic starts to fly it's all Jeremius and his Centurion can do to keep the Legionaries mind's on the battle in front of them. They don't need to be looking up at all that purple fire, or black lightening, that's not the sort of thing they need to concern themselves with at all. It chills him to the bone though, even without the ice. He'll be paying a lot more attention to the priests from now on thats for sure. Assuming he survives that it. Fortunately for him it's undead slaves that are currently pressing against his shield, they're much easier to deal with than their own fallen and he takes three down before he hears a soldier to his right start up the Cohort's marching song, and he joins in with the tune, hearing it get picked up by more and more voices around him. It keeps the cohort focused, cohesive, and reminds them of their purpose as the world goes to shit around them.

-

Alia would not allow Darius, if he had fallen, to lay on the ground like a common soldier and she moved forward, searching the line. And that was just as she felt it. An aura of magic so dark, so dead, so utterly wrong it nearly overwhelmed her, even as the world exploded around them, flame, lighting, rain, the very earth shuddering. And the legion was no different as they all felt the assault of that great magick. The Princepsa was not spared as she felt her skin burn and blister. Hopefully the fire had, at least, spared her eyebrows. Again, she shouted, ignoring the searing pain in her throat, "Hold the line, they will not win this day!"

-

Brenn just looks at the last vampire… And then removes his top half and kicks it away from him watching it tumble to the ground in almost slow motion before he steps back from the dead master vampires looking around at them and shaking his head, "It's not over yet I'm sure. They were skilled but nothing like what I've heard I should expect from these beasts."

-

Darius barely had time to get to his feet. He was used ot fighting in a line, not one on one, and it was showing as the Warchief barreled toward him. He raises the Glaive and parries a rapid series of strikes, sparks coming off both glaive and obsidian axe with eah move. He flowed as easily as he could form high, to low to mid guard, trying to find ANYTHING he can do to get an advantage against this monster. He feels the magic surge and grits his teeth as he feels the wrongness of it, but he can't focus on that. He has to focus on this monster in front of him. This. beast.

Tavat leaps and rolls and flips through the combat like a master of war. Which is what he is to his people. He whoops and hollers while the Imperial Princeps barely manages to get his weapon into position to parry the strikes. The man was an excellent commander, but he was nothing in combat. Perhaps that was the Weakness to the Imperials in the West? He could think about that later after …

Tavat grits his teeth as the Sidhe Steel blade cuts a line on his chest. The Princeps panting smirks at him. "Yeah. I ain't done yet."

Tavat smiles and circles the other man. "You are spent Praetor. I will eat your heart though. You have proven a worthy foe."

"I hope you brought Salt asshole. Because I bet I taste bitter." Darius spits back, before the two clash again.


"Indeed Brennart Tarris." Teleko says as he steps out of the Mist, his body just appearing to form from the very air. "They were new to their power. Except Frederick." He looks to the corpse of the dead Vampire who wielded twin longswords. "Still. Four Masters, even with three of them new to their power is impressive for a Mortal. Enough to Capture MY Attention." He flashes a smile and his eyes burn a blood red. "I assume I need no introductions Knight of the Vigil?"


The Legion continues its desperate defense against the Qatunax warrior caste and the thousands of dead assaulting them. The Cavalry wheels and slams into the flanks, while the Mounted Crossbows fire into the enemy ranks where they can. The entire time magic rains down on both sides. The very ground cracks in one spot, sending up a geyser of earth and lava.

-

Ofrider continues to duel, shield blocking sword, Dragon Heart always centimeters away, but it seems the vampire with more skill consistently continues to block his blows despite how hard the young Reine tries. He stays silent as he continues to fight, eyes gleaming with hope as the ground shutters, he rolls out of the way as cracks and lava spews from the earth, but he barely notices, so focused he is on his battle.

-

Alia continued the press, eyes centering on a troop of elite Qatunax warriors. She had met such before, in a way, at Cotsworld. She did not understand their full ranks, but she knew the more important warriors wore better armor. And they were locked into place on the field. There must be something of value there, perhaps one of their commanders, perhaps that monster that it was rumoured reigned as their blood god. "Tribune, a troop of our legion, on me, we advance to that position!" She was moving forward. She had no other choice. She would do what Darius had come here to do, with or without him. "See if you can hold them down!" That to her auxillia, though they were still so rattled from the dark magic they were wholly ineffective.

-

The song of the XIII remains strong, legionaries may fall, but they're holding their ground and the dead can't seem to penetrate their shields. All that needs to happen is for the line to hold. Jeremius knows that, his centurion knows that, and they work tirelessly to keep the troops in line, locked shoulder to shoulder. It works too, the line remains form and waves of undead bounce into and off it. It works. Right up until teh ground beneath their feet starts to split. Soldiers and undead alike tumble to the ground. Some keep their feet, some fall forwards into the enemy, some sideways, knocking over others. Using his shield to brace himself, the Optio is staggered, but a whole appears in the line to his left and before it can be plugged he takes a series of blows into his unguarded flank. The lorrica holds, but it won't do for much longer.

-

The exchange continues, until the ground splits between Ofrider's feet, he goes to a knee soon as the vamp swings his might sword, towards his neck to deal the fatal blow. he brings his shield up just in time, using the momentum to roll back up as he looks around him before looking back towards the vampire, determination, fear, and anger in his eyes as he re-grips his sword before walking closer to his fatal foe.

-

Brennart looks at the ancient… Monster… "None needed." The knight takes a step back as he prepares for the fight and then lets a bellow, "TELEKO's ON ME!" before he steps in with a swing that seems to catch the ancient vampire by surprise before he steps back to circle Teleko, "And you'd assume right monster. I know who you are."

-

The battle rages, and as the the entire Legion Sings Darius grins at Tavat. "You hear that? Your people are monsters. Killers. Savages who only want to see the world grind beneath their heels, but my people?" Darius squares his shoulders. "We want to bring hope, and peace to the world. And because of that, you will never win you son of a Vitch!" And then Darius charges, adding his own voice to the song being sung by the Legion.

Tavat snarls at Darius's words and counter charges the two meeting in a clash that sets the ground at Darius's feet aflame, only to be turned to steam by the rain that is pelting them. Darius kicks Tavat in the chest and then walks out of the wall of Steam his chest heaving. He doesn't bother pointing his glaive or asking for a surrender. The Qatunax just don't, and as he sings he thrusts with his right hand and hits Tavat full in the chest with a blast of fire.

Tavat screams as he is hit with flame like a punch and sent flying into his own men. He can't see, only feel, as his skin blisters and his men grab him, beginning a fighting retreat….

Darius falls to a knee and clutches at his chest. Weeping blood through his armor and spits a glob of it out of his mouth. "Well. That's not good." He says not sure exactly what to do.


The Vampire on Ofrider grinds his blade into the Reine's shield. He hisses at the man and then disengages. Circling him. "Your people are strong. But my race is stronger." He then launches into another rapid series of attacks. His blade flashing in the and the mist.


The Legion sings and another cheer goes up from a portion of it. Back where the Princeps fell. However, where the majority of the Legion is, the dead are still here and fighting. Silently, which adds to the strangeness of the song punctuated by a chorus or a scream of a mortal being killed.


In the mist the cry of Teleko is heard, and three Tarris Knights, and a Reine Knight come rushing in. Teleko is driven back by Brennart's flurry of strikes, and has to look at the steaming wound on his arm. He tilts his head in acknowledgement to Brennart before he blurs into motion. He kills the first Tarris knight with ease, grabbing the second by the throat and using him as a bludgeoning tool against the Reine knight, who dies form his neck snapping and whose body breaks the back and several ribs of the Reine Knight the last Tarris knight leaps at him trying to drive his sword into his face, but Teleko grabs it, snaps the blade at the hilt and rams it into the man's face in a gout of blood.

Then Teleko sends Brennart flying into a tree with a casual backhand. "Impudent Mortals. For thousands of years better men then YOU have tried to kill me. Gods. THE Darius Firebrand tried and failed. Tell me Brennart Tarris nee Sokar, Knight of the Vigil and future Duke of House Tarris, why do you think you will win?"

-

Right now the singing is a large chunk of what's keeping Jeremius together. His training hadn't prepared him for this, but the sense of purpose and community the song brings is enough for him, and those around him to cling onto. Swords swing, be parries some, blocks others with his shield, successfully denying the foe another shot at him. He can't find a gap of his own though, and so the fight grinds to a horrifying stalemate once more.

-

Alia's voice rose in a cry, as she caught sight of the Princeps, finally visible within the circle of now retreating enemies and the legion closing ranks. She lifted her voice, uncaring if it still tore up her throat, "The Princeps lives! Hold the line, raise your voices. Drive back our enemy!" Alia urged her horse forward, still with her gladius in hand as she dropped to the ground, rushing over towards where Darius was barely holding on, "Darius! I'm here, hold on." At this moment, Alia did not give a flying fuck if it was inappropriate. She reached for her husband, ignoring the blisters on her hands as she sought for the healing ointments she carried in her bag. "Call the healers, now!"

-

The knight finds himself flying back and into a tree with a casual backhand and shakes his head a bit. Climbing slowly to his feet he shakes his head lookup over at Teleko, "I don't think I'm going to win." As he straightens out a bit he looks at the vampire and smirks some rotating his shoulders to make sure that the dent in his armor isn't in the way of his movements, "But if you're fighting me you're not fighting my armies." As the knight moves in and attacks Teleko he feints left. Then right… Then stabs Teleko straight into his unholy guts, "But I'm going to make you remember my name beast."

-

Ofrider own blood spurts from his mouth as he tires, being unable to catch the un-ending blade with his shield, but swings his blade to fend the creature off, giving him a minute to catch his breath, doubt creeps into his eyes for a moment before it hardens again "I may die…but I at least will die with honor." he says as he spits some blood as he readies himself again, only grim silence comes from his mask, no more baleful glaring, simply eyes that know only one thing awaits, his death, or that of his opponet.

-

Darius opens and eye to Alia and hisses slightly as he takes a breath to say something. Anything. He trues to wave her off, but that hurts too. Instead he just leans his head against her, doing his best to try not to get blood on her. "Win. The Fight." He weezes. "Gotta. Feed the people." He coughs again and winces. "I'll be fine. Flesh wound."

He tries to smile at her. Yeah. Even that hurts. "You should totally see the other guy." He winks. "Ow."


The legion advances, cutting down the dead, and with the Qatunax retreating in full, the Legion is winning this fight. Even if the Dead, arn't falling back.


Ofrider is circled by the Vampire. He smirks. "I think it's time you just lay down and die now little Knight." He raises his Greatsword high and moves in for the kill….

-

Teleko steps back and looks at the wound that Brennart gave him. Then smiles. "You are indeed a Knight of singular skill and Valour Knight of the Vigil. Your sacrifice would have been sung in the annals of histories if you had been born when Trevantis wrote then. However, you were not. And if you hadn't brought up a very valid point, I would say you would die here."

Suddenly he unleashes an incredible volley of assaults. His blade flashing faster then Brennart's eyes can track. The blade slashing repeatedly at the Knight of the Vigil.

Once he finishes the attack he is behind Brenanrt and whispers in the Knight's ear. "I'll be seeing you." Before he vanishes. Fading into the mist once more.

-

With the Qatunax retreating Jeremius' Centurion orders the line forwards in a steady, measured advance. It's not easy work, cutting through the dead, but they're easier to fell than Qatunax at least. Progress is slow, but they're starting to build momentium, and more importantly, the belief that there might be an end to this, that they might live to see the dawn once more. The song changes, they're still singing, but now it's a proper soldiers song, of victory and of empire. They're just getting to the rousing chorus when he steps over a fallen undead who isn't quite as dead-again as they appeared and the last he knows is a searing pain in his side as a gladius is buried deeper into his ribcage than anyone can recover from. The song dies on his lips as he drops like a sack of spuds, but ot's carried on by those around him as they continue their advance.

-

Alia sank to her knees, hands reaching to keep Darius from falling forward. It was a twisted mirror of the day they had taken their vows to each other. Darius had sworn to her that he would never again ask her to kneel before him, but just this once, she would forgive him. In truth, if it meant saving him, she would gladly spend a lifetime on her knees. "Hush, hush now. Hold still. The enemy retreats." Alia settled herself, allowing Darius to rest his weight against her, ignoring the blood that smeared her good self, as she pulled a small vial from her bag, helping him to drink. "This will help." It would dull the pain and speed his healing. But it was the blood that worried her, "Just hold on a bit longer, love." Alia fought tears as she saw the rents in his armor, so wide she could easily fit her hand between the segments. She coated her fingers with a ruby red ointment, before she slipped her hand inside, feeling for the wound, coating it to stanch the flow of blood. And worse, the possibility of infection. "The Princeps must be removed from the field!" She was strong, but not strong enough to carry him herself.

-

Ofrider goes flying as he hits the dirt, coughing as blood drips from his helmet, his armour dented horribly into his side he stands up in a wobbly way before refirming his ground, but he's hunched over slightly, betraying his weakness as he sways back and forth with his shaky breath "A Reine…doesn't…retreat." he says with a gasp as he stumbles slightly, despite his stumble, he holds his sword high, and his shield up.

-

Brenn grins as the realization settles in on Teleko… The knight attempting to parry the flurry of attacks but he takes strike after strike until the last massive attack which he manages to catch on his shield… Barely able to stand right now he glances back towards Teleko and chuckles, "I look forward to it…" As Teleko fades away into the mist he lets out a cough then punches Reckoning into the ground in front of him as he drops to a knee clutching one of the spots his armor's been pierced in, "Just not today okay?"

-

The Vampire is about to finish Ofrider off. His blade raised high when he tilts his head. "You lucked out mortal. We'll meet again. Try to be better next time eh?" He laughs and then fades into mist, dissipating into nothingness, his laughter echoing across the battlefield in an eerie echo. All around Ofrider, indeed the Combined Arkanin and Tarris forces the mist begins to fade, and as it does, the dead fall to the earth of Tirth once more. There to rest once again in the slumber that was to take them for eternity.


The Dead fall and die their second death before the Legion. Sadly, not before the brave Jerimuis could live to see this victory. Like so many Imperial Soldiers he gave his life so that the Colonies could survive.

-

Darius tries to scream when Alia reaches for his wounds. It's involuntary, but it's there. He arches his back and nearly flops onto his back as he writhes in pain despite the tincture designed to dull it. There is just something about flesh touching open axe wounds that causes a bit of screaming. He feels his ribs begins to knit and pants heavily as that doesn't feel amazing and he punches the ground once to try and remain in focus before he finally passes out. Just in time for Medico's to rush to the Princep's side and begin to carry him off the field of battle.

A Tribune walks over to Alia and nods to her. "Thank the One and the Saints he lives." He removes his helmet and runs a hand through his hair. "What are your orders Princepsa?"


Viscount Varian Reine comes walking up to Brennart, removing his helmet and casually tossing it aside. Confident one of his peasants will pick the thing up. "You live I see. That's good. I didn't want to explain to his Grace that you died under my watch. We're beginning a Tally, but it looks like we got mauled pretty bad." He pauses and raises an eyebrow. "Need a Healer?"

-

Ofrider raises his shield and readies his sword for one, last, push. He grits his teeth, but stops as the monster himself stops. He simply blinks as the thing disappears soon as he goes to swing, almost falling over as he screams in rage, going to his knee's in exhaustion and defeat. He pants heavily as he rests there for a moment, hunched forward by his broken ribs, his shield and Dragon Heart the only things holding him up. Were it not for his breathing and sitting up posture, he would look much like the dead around him as blood oozes from his various wounds, slowly dripping from his mouth as he rests his head on his shield, a small clanking sound, as he stays still and silent.

-

Alia did nothing to staunch her tears as she worked the ointment into the wound she could feel. She had made him a promise and if the One willed Darius would forgive her. She knew the pain it would cause him, but she worked regardless, doing everything that was within her power to keep him alive long enough for the healers to reach him. Once they did, she allowed them to take him, fighting the urge to follow after them as the Tribune approached her. She still had a job to do. She did not, however, take the time to wipe the tears from her eyes, as she rose to her full, if humble height. She was not and would not be ashamed of them, "Secure the farmlands, assist the Tarris and Arkanin forces as you can. Complete the task that was given to you by the Princeps." She paused, something in her tone turning vicious, "Kill every enemy that survives."

-

Brennart glances over at the Viscount and then down at the gashes in his armor before he nods, "Thank the One I need a healer…" He looks back over at Varian as he forces himself back up to his feet, "But I can say one thing your excellency… Teleko is a monster. But he can be beaten. I managed to land a couple of hits on him." Retrieving his sword he cleans off the blade getting that nasty vampire blood off it before he sheathes it, "How badly mauled were we?"

-

"One knows Brenanrt." Varian says with a casual shrug. As if he didn't witness the dead or fight Vampires. As if it was Tuesday. Despite being in a helm and fighting for hours, even his hair looked perfect. He sheathes his blade, black like Brennart's. "Bad enough I think we need to let our healers do their job before we march on Ryker." He looks at Brennart with casual boredom in his cold eyes. "I'd send a letter to his Grace once we know how bad too. I don't think even HE could have prepared for the Dead attacking like this, or for the Vampires, but His Grace should be informed." He hooks his thumbs in his belt and looks around him. "Not bad for leading your first real battle though." because Partharia doesn't count in the Viscount's books. "I'd write your wife too. I hear they like that sort of thing." He shrugs.

-

The Tribune nods and starts bellowing orders, even as healers set up a tent and begin to gather the wounded who can be saved. Granting those that can't, a merciful death with a prayer to the appropriate Saint and the One.

-

The same happens near the Tarris and Arkanin battle lines. Who can, now that the mist is clearing, see the Imperial lines and the fire marked hills where they battled. Smoke still drifts upwards from a few spots of burned ground, but mostly the Imperial lines look hale and whole.

-

Alia walked the battlefield, assisting where she could, with hands, or back or words. The battle was over, but she was still needed. She was, whether she wished to be or not, a stand-in for the Princeps. Thankfully, many of his tribunes and commanders had survived and the Legion who had fought the Qatunax for the better part of a decade and the other enemies of the Empire besides knew their work and they did what was required.

Alia looked up as Juliana came to find her, the other sorcerers out assisting as they could. "You need a healer yourself, Princepsa." Alia nodded, "I know, but not yet. There are others whose wounds are more dire." Juliana pursed her lips but nodded. Alia would be seen, eventually. But, like Darius, the well-being of the Legion came before her own.

-

Brennart sighs a bit and nods, "Yes I'll write a letter to them both." He looks around a bit then waves one of the messengers over, "Fetch the healers start treating the wounded who can't move. Gather up the walking wounded to the healer's tents." Then he looks at all the dead and shakes his head, "Burn all the dead. Collect up the possessions of our troops to send home to their families." Then he looks over at Varian and nods, "Not bad. Not terrible either I did get attacked by vampires and Teleko. I'm honestly shocked to be alive."

-

Ofrider would look up after a moment, looking about shakily as he stands up using his shield as he wobbles on his feet before sheathing his sword, which takes a couple of tries and his shield as he finds anyone still alive near them, picking them up "Come on, your going to make it." he would say while slowly limping to where most of the Tarris people appear to be gathered, or at least from here, don't want to be attacked by random vampires again.

-

Varian nods to Brennart and claps him on the shoulder then heads out to issue orders. He finds who he is looking for fairly easily. "Cousin." Varian says as he approaches Ofrider. He eyes the man carefully. "You have a bit of blood on you." He states with a nod. Then he draws his Sidhe Steel Blade and taps Ofrider on the Shoulders. "You're a Knight. I have a Fortress that needs a Lord. You earned it. Congratulations."

Then he hauls back and punches Ofrider right in the face. "Last unanswered Blow. I'll have my Steward contact you when we return to Galenthia." He nods again and heads off to see to the rest of his men. As casual as if this was a walk through the park and with even less emotion.

-

Ofrider would continue to walk, stopping at Varian approaches , bowing "I would go to a knee great uncle…" he would say before motioning to the man he carries before nodding "I do." he admits before freezing as the blade comes out "Wha…" he goes to say before he is punched in the nose, blood squirting from the helmet as he falls to the ground before chuckling then out right laughing, hands going to his helmet, thankfully, said helmet also hides his stoic face being broken by emotion.

-

Brennart walks back and watches as Ofrider gets his random battlefield knighting and the Baron applauds, "Well done Sir!" He continues to head towards the healers stopping one of the runners, "There's a bloody scene back there a bit. Some reddish steel looking weapons along some bodies. Well maybe the bodies are there. See that the weapons are collected up and delivered to my tent. I want to examine them."

-

Ofrider simply sniffs as he sits up "Thank you Lord Brennart." he says as he stands up, going into the healers tent slowly with the man he's dragged along before flopping into a bed.

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