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Message: <blockquote data-quote="Emperor Valerian" data-source="post: 1471887" data-attributes="member: 15043">The Battle... Part OneSame day... further south...The Inerman River, even at this point, barely 150 miles upstream of its mountainous source, was already coursing nearly a quarter mile wide, its form gently rolling by, slow... even sluggish.  During the midsummer, one could wade some 200 feet out into it and still have one’s head above water... the snowmelt had already happened, and the river now lazily coursed until winter’s cold bound it in place and spring’s thaw set it loose again as a tyrant nearly double its size.When the river coursed this wide, all bridges that traversed its width were controlled and maintained by the nobility... in this case, the Counts of Holstean, and extensive magic were used in their construction.  Now, in the area just outside of Chandriol, three massive stone bridges crossed an area a half mile in width... the widest the river had ever gotten during hte spring floods, and now a large Imperial army, under the command of the bridges’ titular master, trundled across all three.The cavalry was in the lead... 8,000 strong.  A quarter of those were knights... minor nobles coming from the levies of the great nobles in the region.  They were clad in a bevy of colors, mostly their family crests combined in some manner with the colors of their titular lords;  whites, maroons, golds, blues.  Upon their helms shone a riot of headgear, some plain, some fanciful in the extreme.  While Lord Holgren’s vassals for the most part had simple war helms, Lord Holgren himself had a large griffon standing rampant on his, its wings outstreched and lightly gilt to a perfect golden shine.With these also rode the mounted men at arms... the lesser cavalry levy, which numbered another quarter of the called cavalry.  Clad in chain shirts or breastplates at best, these were the light cavalry, armed not with the lances of the noble’s horse, but with javelins.  Instead of noble longswords, they held shortswords, axes, rapiers, whatever they could find as melee.  Unlike their noble cousins, they did not disdain bows, and all had at least a shortbow, if not a longbow, strapped to their back.  Most were dully colored, with small, utilitarian round shields instead of the large, pompously colored steel shields of the knights.Finally, the remaining half of the cavalry was the Imperial horse... 4,200 strong in all.  They were clad the same, depending on their organized battalion; heavy chainmail armor, large white shields with the Imperial family crest, a golden dragon rampant emblazoned.  By their sides were large longswords, and their simple helms had a dragon’s head etched into each side.  They carried lances long enough they were almost pikes, though they were trained to fight mounted, or dismounted, with lance, pike, sword, spear, and axe.  All also had longbows strapped to their horses’ side, and while they were not rapid mounted archers, they were fast enough that they would form a deadly surprise for the unwary.Lucius rode in the midst of this motley advance guard, much against Xanadu’s wishes.  To his front were the small riding contingent (only 15) of Santac and the Mephys troops, which despite their poor armament compared to the heavy horse surrounding him, Lucius had taken as his person headquarters guard.  Many of the young men and women in the small outfit recognized the red haired boy that had been on the parapets of the city’s palisade the last night the ice monsters attacked, and peppered him with questions as they rode.  Normally Luke would have found that annoying, but today, it was a wanted distraction.Behind him rode the lead unit of the Imperial cavalry itself... the Kubalia Horse Guards, the leading part of the Imperial Guard contigent with his army, and arguably some of the most feared cavalry in the world.  They were all at minimum Lucius’ height (6’), and clad in heavy, white plate mail, dragons emblazoned on its front in gold.  In addition to their massive lances were their massive swords, bastard sword length, which they were able to wield one handed.  A bevy of colorful shields also complimented the guard, crimson backgrounds with the same golden dragon.  Rumor had it the crimson for the shields came from the blood of those the unit had trampled underfoot...Xanadu, in half elf form, trotted alongside on a bay mare, looking at Lucius in a rather grumpy manner.  Lucius took in the wizard’s eyes, and sighed.“Xanny, stop it.  You aren’t going to get me to change my opinion,”  Luke said plainly, not even looking at the dragon but instead ahead... to the shore, and off to the left... towards a low rise with trees..“Luke, its a...”“There!  I want you posted there, Xanny!” Luke pointed to the copse, several hundred feet long and wide.  “Stay in dragon form in there!”  I have another idea, Xanny...“And why would I curl my massive frame like a whining pup in a forest?” Xanadu said, his voice changing towards angry, “I’m not a cur that needs...”“Xanny, listen!” Lucius looked at him harshly, as the noise of hooves on stone continued to rumble, “You’ll be close enough to the line there to intervene, and provide some magic wards.  Meanwhile, you’ll be hidden within view... they’ll likely assume you are just a normal but rather powerful wizard in the far reserve.  If you have to come out as a dragon, I’d rather they hadn’t had several hours of knowing you were there...”Xanadu stopped in mid-rant, as Lucius’ ideas echoed in his mind.  For a few minutes there was silence, as Xanadu stared at the trees, and likely the mental image of a battlefield covered the hills in front of him.  He suddenly snapped his head back towards Luicus.“Luke... by the end of this night I will either be calling you a genius or cursing your recklessness...”Sir Santac grumbled as his horses’ hooves touched the stone of the great bridge for the first time, at the lead of his Mephys contingent of 600, now with another 20 Imperial centuries, nearly 2,000 foot altogether, augmenting his force.  In return, he’d given up his cavalry to Lucius, and if he craned his massive frame he could see Lord Lucius, on his white charger, leading the motely bays and roans of his small, ill armed group off the bridge nearly a half mile away.Today is going to be a hard day, the grizzled fighter, just past his fiftieth birthday reflected.  Likely the hardest in my years as a soldier... thirty five years...He glanced behind himself for reassurance... and the Mephys villagers, hardened by war and loss over the past two months, gave him a rousing cheer.  They were clad in a mismatch of armor... whatever they could find, and armed with simply made long pikes and whatever melee weapon they could dig up.  They were rough, but they were his... and their cheer gave him strength.“Elenya,” Lady Remnova asked quietly, “could you hand me the distilled alcohol?  Yeah, the one there,” she said after Elenya pointed questioningly in the rocking cart.  “I want to recount our supplies,” she said somberly.The mood of the nurses, especially Lady Remnova, had improved significantly since the lightning incident.  They treated her with far more respect... perhaps even fear.  And Elenya relished the fact she had become de facto commander of the hospital unit.”Here you go,” Elenya handed the bottle to her, catching a whiff of its smell, which reminded her of her uncle’s tavern... and Shaun.  That stuff is probably too strong for him, she laughed, remembering his antics with dwarven ale, I don’t think he could handle any of it.   Remnova gave a sudden, sharp laugh.“Ha!  We’re overstocked!” she chuckled, “just as I suspected!  Should we just keep the extra bottle, Elenya?”  Hmm... Elenya thought for a second, before leaning forward.  “Take a whiff of that, Remnova.  Tell me what you smell.”  The noble’s daughter daintily removed the cork holding in the contents of hte bottle, and leaned over to lightly whiff, before yanking her head away in disgust.  “Strong strong alcohol!” Remnova replied, quickly covering the bottle of liquid.  “Too strong for the soldiers I expect!”  She waved her hand in front of her face to drive away the odor, as her other hand thrust the bottle towards Elenya.  The barmaid turned wizard laughed... on the surface it was contempt, but underneath it was something else... fear.“Give it here,”  Elenya grabbed the bottle, and held it up to the light examining it.  “Yes... it is strong alcohol.... look!  For example, you know how your wines and champagnes and the like are colored?  That means they are weak... this... this is almost as clear as the purest water.  Damn strong stuff.  Here’s what I do to strong alcohol.”  With that, in a single fluid motion she pulled out the stopper, and proceeded to down the contents of the bottle in three gulps.  The alcohol burned down her throat and hit her stomach with a noticeable thud, but she didn’t wince or betray anything.  Remnova looked on in shock, and a mix of... was that awe?   The look gave Elenya a smile... her dominant status was now cemented, and her mind definatly challenged her fear.”If you won’t want them there... finish the rest,” she gave her challenge as the cart rumbled onto the stone bridge.  Her eyes flashed the flame of a challenge until in her mind... until the disapproving face of Shaun came into her view.  ”The baby?” voice said, rather late.  Suddenly sullen, she turned and looked directly ahead, chucking the bottle over the edge of the bridge into the dried earth to the side.   Why did I do that?I’m sorry Shaun.  I didn’t think... she apologized about forgetting her promise to him way back in the desert.  She looked forlornly at hte bottle now lying broken in the ground some 15 feet below, and drifting behind the still moving cart, It won’t happen again, I swear! As Lucius and the cavalry exited the bridge, he took them hard to the right.  A massive set of woods, seemingly too thick for organized troops, stretched for miles in that direction... large enough it could hide an unorganized mass of 8,000 troops and their horses... at least for a while.The army deployed in the base of a half bowl formed by the terrain, the three local bridges behind it.  The ground rose up the gentle heights to their front and sides for nearly a half mile, before one reached the crest of the ridge.  The slope then went downhill gently for what appeared to be two miles.  Lucius himself rode just under the crest of the ridge on his troops side, and noted with happiness that except for people just short of the crest, the other side of the hill could not be seen.  His plan’s permutations changed subtly, as he also noted that between the crest and where his army was setting up a hundred yards past the base, there was more than enough ground for a massive host to form battleranks.  As he spurred his horse over the crest for some more reconniasance, he could see the battle already developing in his mind...The mongels come over the crest, and assume it will be an easy kill... the march down, form themselves into ranks, and launch themselves into our defensive lines.  Luke closed his eyes, and the ranks upon ranks of the strange enemy, swords upraised, marched by perfectly in his mind.  Our spellcasters, with their superior power, lob offensive spells at them while keeping our soldiers defending, stretching their magic users, till all are at the front, straining to hold our magic...  The ranks of the invisible army, now became a bevy of colors... some fire, some ice, some acid.  The enemy slowed to a halt, struggling to advance, their lead ranks decimated by fireballs, cones of cold and sheer magical energy...  My cav comes out of the woods, Casalad Rangers and other snipers taking out those that remain on this side.   We form on these plains, and charge down the hill towards the rear of the mongrel army, trapping it between our lances and our infantry...  In his mind he saw the ground shaking... the mongrels turning to look back, up the hill they had just so recently marched down, and seeing the bright steelpoints of thousands of horsemen, charging down the hill, directly in their rear.  The confusion, the panic, the fact that there was no where to run...  they all would be pinned, between his foot down below and hte cavalry coming from above...The plan was beautiful and brilliant... and frought with peril...Dammit, Xanadu grumbled... as a deep, basso growl escaped his draconic lips.  As Lucius had asked, he had slipped into the forest on the left, and had curled up... his 200 foot frame smaller, waiting, as an alter self spell for the moment covered his bright, silvery scales with greenish and black tint.  Nonetheless, he’d raised his head so his eyes were just above the tops of the trees, his frill pressed down to hide his nature.His original first clue to the presence of the mongrels had been the slight shudder the ground had given underfoot, the same release the earth gives when thousands of feet impact it rhythmically.  Then, a dense, dark line appeared on the horizon, below the crest of the ridge that Xanadu could see both sides of.   Them he began to make them out.A seething, roiling mass in dark steel or black armor...  most were human sized, clad in strange armors and wielding strange weapons.  These, undoubtedly the mongrels themselves, came in disciplined ranks, dark with battlecalls in a tongue even Xanadu did not understand.Behind them were dark black mounds, frought with red.... and Xanadu recognized in ten of them the feared and menacing forms of bebiliths, deep spiders of the Abyss.  On the back of each was a vulture headed vrock... each undoubtedly one of the commanders of this force.Finally, Xanadu spotted two forms that combined made his blood chill.  One’s smell he easily picked up, and registered immediately... draconic.  It was a red dragon, looked to be a young adult at oldest, perhaps 70 feet long, walking forward almost arrogantly behind the army.  He had about it a mixed air... contempt for those he was about to face, and a barely controlled fury.  The dragon’s head suddenly swiveled, and he glanced in Xanadu’s direction.  If I remain still, he will not detect me, Xanadu thought, focusing on pure stillness.  While the dragon was of his species, he undoubtedly was not as experienced, and he sniffed the edge of the trees for only a few minutes before giving the draconic equivalent of a shrug, and bounding back into the mongrel ranks.The figure beside him did cause a rise of fear... standing 25 feet tall, his form enormous, red, and bloated... a balor.  A living, breathing balor.  His eyes were  a feral red, his wings spread an easy 30 feet wide behind him, rhythmically opening and closing.  In one of his hands he carried a sword so massive it put the gargantuan blade Ananias had wielded to shame... the blade itself was clearly 15 feet long at least, and bathed in a flaming glow.  He gave a snarl, and pushed ahead, roughly pushing bebiliths aside and almost crushing mongrels before he loomed over the crest of the hill.His laughter, deep and roaring, echoed along the banks of the River Inerman.“Steady!  Steady!” Lucius hissed, holding his steed Lightning in place.  The horse shied away from the monstrous laughter even more, before Lucius, with a mixture of cool words and sharp tugs at the reins, kept her in place.  I know, girl, you want to run.  Believe me, I would join you if I could.   “Don’t be afraid... he’s mortal,” Lucius said quietly, with some false bravado as he saw the troops around him from the Mephys troops edging away as well.  Lucius jumped off his horse, and walked over to where he saw Quin whittling away on a branch quietly.  He touched his bodyguard’s shoulder, and Quin looked up... fear in his eyes.  The same fear that was in most of the soldier’s eyes.Someone might need to take that guy down... he’s undoubtedly their commander.  I... I can’t show I’m with them on this... I can’t show I’m afraid...“Quin,” Lucius said quietly, “I have something I need you to do.”  Tess’ brother stood slowly, though by the rock in his stance, Lucius knew fear was quaking his legs.“If, during the charge, I should need to break off, you’ll take the point.  Ok?  I’ll give the order, and the troops will follow you in... got it?”  Quin nodded, and Lucius looked him hard in the eyes.  “You will then be the spearhead, the point of the wedge.  Ride on for their army, regardless of what happens to me... understood?”  Don’t come chasing after... I might have something that I need to handle... someone needs to guide the others into the rear of the enemy if that happens.“Y... ye... yes sir,” Quin saluted shakily, and Lucius gave him a smile and a pat, before heading back to his horse and his ‘Dragonwing Riders,’ as he had taken to calling his Mephys contingent.“Dragonwings,” he said quietly, noting that most of them still blushed a little at the title... they thought it was overpraise, “I want you to promise me something,” he continued.  They nodded, and came closer.“Promise me that if I have to break off, you will follow me... even if it takes us straight at the balor,” he pointed towards the monstrousity they could barely see through the trees.  “I will need stout blades backing me up... can I count on you?”The Mephys soldiers looked at each other for a minute or two, before slowly a reply was achieved...  “Yes.... yes you can count on us.””Good,” Lucius remounted.  Siabrey, pray to Hieroneous to watch over your husband this day...   For likely, his blade shall dance with a demon...Santac watched with some degree of relief as the spellcasters around him, sprinkled among the army, all began to raise their hands, and chants for various protections, wards, and dispellments rose into the sky, the magic growing thick enough that the air in front of the army seemed to waver and flutter, as the air above a blistering rock on a hot day.“Hold up, folks!” Santac called, seeing the frightened looks in eyes of his Mephys troops.  Even though they were in reserve, he still didn’t want them deciding to run home this late.  “That monster is mortal!  All of them are mortal!  You... any one of you, might be able to say ten, thirty, fifty years from now, ‘on this day I killed a demon!’” he roared, holding his bastard sword aloft.  His long beard, flowing gently in the magic breeze, coupled with his mottled plate mail and his massive warhorse, made for an imposing figure.  He saw the fear in his Mephys follower’s eyes abate some, but some remained.’Tis good... for when a man does not fear death... he has truly lost his mind, Santac thought, his eyes sweeping to his front.  1,500 Imperial soldiers were on the front line, their pikes in hand, shields ready, and he saw nary a sign of fear on any of their faces.  They feared, to be sure, but they were not willing to show it.Behind them were more troops, clad in armor and armed with composite longbows, with three quivers of arrows at the ready... quivers that possibly would end hte day empty.The mongrel army to his front was already arranging itself in lines of battle... thick and deep.  Its infantry seemed as numerous as the sea, though to his surprise, Santac saw its cavalry lining up in front... 15,000 horse in garish, distinctive armor, most with the same screaming face as their facial armor, wicked looking polearms at their sides.What are they up to?  Surely... he thought, before the air was split with first a loud shout from the tall, winged monstrousity that was clearly their commander, still sitting high on the ridge above his forces.  The air seemed to crack again as a shout rumbled from the soldiers of the mongrel army, rolling down the hill as a tidal wave of sound... an acknowledgement of the will one one by the voices of all.  And, seeming in unison, the lines of mounted horse plunged down the hill, thier polearms above their heads, their wooden faces echoing the same battle screams that came from their real ones.  As the ground shuddered, and then rocked underfoot, Santac’s eyes watched with a soldier’s eye for beauty.They come at us in straight... perfect ranks... a feat for a mass of horse.  Weapon’s high above their heads... a gorgeous painting if I ever saw one...Too bad we shall have to spoil the green of the grass with the red of their blood...</blockquote>

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