In Whitebridge
There was a thick fog this morning, broiling up from the river in what seemed to be thick waves, engulfing everything in front of it, wrapping the ground in mystery and shadow. Saker sat just outside of his tent, which was pitched on the western end of the bridge. The city had basically moved out of the city itself, perferring not to live in threat of a battle at any moment. Most had went to Baerlon to find beds for the time being, while a few had moved into the military camps themselves, be them Andoran or Manetheren. Men patrolled the bridge ends on both sides, with defensive structures erected on both ends, turning the middle ground into something more like a waiting battlefield. The Band's engineers had erected two small towers in which sat crossbowmen twenty-four hours a day, watching the expanse of bridge. Usually, an Asha'man or two was in one, the other, or both, though not always.
The tense standoff could not stand this way forever.
Saker drew in a deep breath of the fog, feeling the moisture in the air heavy in his chest as he expelled the breath forcefully and rose to his feet. Two men that followed him around, no matter where he went now, carrying halberds, but with two swords forming a large X on their backs. Elitists, they called themselves. He supposed the name fit, they were the ones in the Band that even began to approach his own skill with a blade in hand.
He walked briskly forward, and his mind wandered backwards . . .
"Get your army off of my lands."
"Your lands? Last time I checked, the Queen held sway here." The arrogant man adjusted his seat in the saddle slightly and smiled in a condescending manner.
"The Queen cared naught about these lands until these lands returned to their roots. Now she fears for her power." Saker returned.
"Should she?" the man asked, still smiling.
"Should she have ever? Unless other nations that were slaughtered in their fight against the Shadow return, I see no reason that she should fear."
"Are you trying to say that you have no intention of marching on her armies?"
"None."
"Yet you crossed Andoran lands recently, and have ridden straight past Caemlyn more than once in your journeys. Uninvited and unwanted."
"Wrong. Never once have I ridden past her walls, and only once have my men marched across her lands, and that was in pursuit of the False Dragon, Ksathra." He crossed his arms. "He destroyed my city and killed innocent men and women. Did she expect me to let that pass?"
"Baerlon belongs to Andor, as does the Two Rivers. As do you!"
"I belong to Manetheren." Saker said, pulling himself up to his full height. "Never again say that I am property of your queen."
"Your army should be rightfully bound in service to her majesty. Pledge your services to her, as it should be."
"The agreement I made with her will not be altered. Manetheren stands alone, and will ride to Andor's aid when requested. In return for her not meddling in my affairs here."
"If we are allies, you cannot deny us passage."
"If we are allies, you have already lost your ground."
The man's smile vanished, and Saker had to fight to hide to hide his own. "Do not toy with me, Mandell. I knew your father, fought by his side. He was a man of Andor to his bones!"
"My father may have been." Saker's eyes narrowed. "I am not. I know what he could never tell me because he died in her service." His eyes hardened still more. "Now. Remove yourself, do not make me ask again."
"We will not be held at bay long, Mandell."
"You will be."
The sudden sound of whistles blasting through the air, echoing all around and coming from nowhere all at once, jerked him out of the memory of his meeting with the Andoran commander. One of the Asha'man stood high in his tower, and the fog burned off around it as if scalded by intense sun. And then Saker saw why. His eyes ran the length of the clearing in the fog to a small boat. Two men in the boat were standing already with crossbows at their shoulders, aimed at him, standing at the base of the tower. They were wearing red. A third in the boat was shouting loudly, but what Saker wasn't quite sure as he fell into the void, seeing clearly, uncomfortably clearly, the bolt coming at him, aimed with deadly accuracy at his right eye. He twitched to the side in the last second, the arrow thudding as it hit the base of the tower. His sword was in his hands in the next moment, but there was nothing for it to do; the boat gave a shudder and exploded, flinging men and body parts across the ground.
"Go to the Tower, get the M'Hael and the First," one of the Asha'man above said sharply, and he heard the other's boots clack once, twice, then . . .silence. Supposing the man had went through a gateway, he turned to already find the Band's camp in a state of ordered chaos as men rushed to stations. A cry was rising.
"Manetheren! Manetheren!" he looked towards the bridge, heard the Andorans shouting, heard their horns blasting the air.
So it came to this.
"Band of the Red Hand!" he yelled, running to his lines, seeing the men standing there in perfect order and ready to decimate, shield and pikesmen in front, swordsmen right behind them with blades in hands, looking ready. Elisan was somewhere down the line, yelling orders at the top of his lungs. "Forward! Forwards!! The Andorans have tried to end this today! We now have to go to war with those that once pledged their hands in friendship. We will fight. WE WILL PREVAIL!"
And then he turned, lead them over the low defensive wall, and at the lines of Andorans coming over the bridge at them. Battle was his life, his life was war.
(Raekal Dunshain) -- First Stormleader Asha'man Bonded to Brenna Selanos (Saker Mandell) -- King of Manetheren (Rahien Shan) -- King of Arafel (Kylan Du'Val) -- Dreadlord of Mesaana
Elisan cursed to himself. It should have never come to this, never. Yet, the Wheel Weaves as it Wills. The Dragon Reborn apparently dead and now tis, Andor and Manetheran at war. If this was not a sign of Tarmon Gaidin approaching then nothing was. Tarmon Gaidin and noi Dragon...not a thought to savor.
Yet, he was a man of Manetheran and he would fight, for Manetheran and Saker. He drew his blade and shouted.
" Manetheran!! For the Red Eagle forward!!."
The men beside him raised their pikes and shouted " the red eagle"
He turned and raised a hand and let it fall; his signal to the archers. Suddenly the air was alive with the sound of a hail of arrows. He closed his eyes briefly as the first thunks came across the field as arrows punched through breastplates enlayed with the lion of andor. He turned back to the pikemen and raised his blade so that the sunlight glinted off the heron engraved in the blade.
" Forward men on Manetheran!! Forward to victory!!"
Re: In Whitebridge
Aiden, a bow in hand let lose his arrow. War was upon them and Aiden could have cried if he was sure it would not have been something the other men wanted to see. His father always badgered him on his sensitivity. Why he was like that Aiden could not say himself. He hated the bad things in life but he was a good soldier so it was how he made his living. Now that he was with the Band, it made him a very decent living indeed. It also helped he fought for someone he believed in. Saker Mandell was a great man. He of course had his faults and Aiden wondered about his tastes in companions but he knew battle and Aiden respected that. The Lord of Manetheren took no pride in winning but he did in his men and the name he took into battle. He did not want glory but Aiden was sure he and whoever followed him was destined for it
He would have continued on in that vein of praise about his Lord and commander but Andoran soldiers that had not been pushed back or felled by arrows rushed forward. Soon enough he was in the thick of the battle. He had long since relinquished his bow and drawn out his sword. He rushed to the front while the other bowmen stayed behind. He would get reprimanded for that if he got through this alive. As he swung his sword out to deflect an Andoran all thought was ignored. Survival was at the forefront of his mind and when he got out of this he would ignore the fact that sometimes he enjoyed battle as much as it saddened him.
-Yasha Murikovine Queen of Saldaea- -Brenna Selanos BT Civilian- -Aiden D'orgen BotRH- -AND Bio Checker-
Re: In Whitebridge
Saker flowed into the battle. He went in at first with a line of Banders with him, pikes or swords lowered, faces twisting as they roared out their challenges. This was what he lived for, this moment, this piece of existence where one moment was life, and that was all that mattered, where any said moment could be the last, and . . . well . . . there was no and. His sword was alive in his hands as he pivoted, the sword spinning around behind him to deflect a few slashes to extend as he came around. One man went down, his throat a bloody ruin. No one had seen the sword connect.
Another fell screeching in agony, clutching the stump of a leg. Saker dipped, the sword never ceasing in it's spin around him, his arm moving only minimally, his wrist casting out the majority of him moves. Two more fell before him.
Only seconds had passed.
The men around him melted away as the battle grew in escalation. Arrows from both sides rained down around Saker, taking men out with screams and curses. Bodies began to pile up on the shining marble of the bridge. The Asha'man were channeling continuously, a storm of lightning shattering Andoran lines and formations. Into these cracks Saker went.
Two men came at him with spears lowered, jumping over the still-smoking carcasses of former friends. One was crying, Saker noted. Odd, the things one saw when about to kill. He stood his ground, the sword moving in a blur around him. The first thrust with the spear and found a stunted haft in his hands. Saker caught the severed head, spun, and planted it back in it's prior owner's chest. THe second paused for a moment as the first went to his knees gugrling. Saker caught his eyes, and in Saker's shining black eyes, the man saw his own death.
Saker went forwards.
The man went down, headless.
More came at him, roaring. An arrow tugged at his sleeve as it hissed past. Two more narrowly missed him as he twisted to avoid a sword thrust, easily slicing through the offender's chest and leaving him trying to keep his innards IN with both hands, all battle forgotten.
Banders surged around him, pushing the Andorans back, roaring as they came onwards. Word flew through Andorans waiting to come to the fore of black death racing through them, shattering lives and bodies, not caring who, or what, it caught, as long as it caught and killed. And killed, and killed.
Asha'man had come off of their towers and were on the field with bloody swords in hands too, their faces alight with the rush of the battle. Men were runnign forwards all around. The fight was quickly turning into a massacre. Andoran men all around were dropping their weapons to run, though a few threw themselves at them, at Saker.
He danced among these men, men falling wherever he went. He was untouchable today, his sword moving in impossibly patterns, missing his own flesh sometimes by the width of a hair. His own men roared at fleeing Andorans as they chased them down, moving across the bridge, carpeting their path with the dead. Saker lead them across, down into the last line of Andoran strength. He leapt over a line of pikes, landing in the midst of a startled squad of pikemen. He spun, splitting skulls and opening necks. Blood poured, men slumped.
A volley of crossbows slammed into Andor's lines, knocking them backwards. The main strength of the Band slammed into them next, rocking them backwards. Saker spun and dipped, the sword still spinning through his hands, a continous blur as men just seemed to drop all around him, no one ever catching the strikes of the razor-sharp blade that opened such horrible wounds.
"Forward the Red Eagle! FORWARD!" the call roared, and the men responded, swarming into Whitebridge itself, still pushing the shattered Andorans before them. A bloody day for Andor . . .
(Raekal Dunshain) -- First Stormleader Asha'man Bonded to Brenna Selanos (Saker Mandell) -- King of Manetheren (Rahien Shan) -- King of Arafel (Kylan Du'Val) -- Dreadlord of Mesaana
Re: In Whitebridge
Elisan lost himself in the dance, sword flashing through the forms and where it flashed men died. He kept in tune with all around him so he knew where the men who had followed him in the advance were. They followed with him cutting ruin with pike, sword and bow.
The forces of Andor fell back around him and something told him the men Saker led to his right were also driving back the enemy. Victory would be theirs this day, they would drive Andor from Manetherans lands and chase them all the way back to Caemlyn.....
Re: In Whitebridge
Curlan muttlered a silent curse, and held his hand up for his scouts to hold. Bowstrings quieted, men silenced, and the only sound heard over the battle were the hooves of the horses wanting to charge.
And there in the center, he could see the two swirls in battle he was looking for. The two men who mad ethe Band what it was and both were leading the men against an enemy that shouldn't be.
"Cabor, grab two more horses. Lord Saker and Lord Elisan will need mounts. SCOUTS! DRAW SWORDS!"
The small group of thirty men stuffed away their bows except for Drike, he never went without his. The ring of steel sounded small in the roar of battle, but it would be enough.
"TO BATTLE!"
The cry sounded around him much louder then it should have from thirty men, and the horses leapt forward as he lead the charge to the swirls he had seen. He would reach Lord Elisan first, but Lord Saker would likely frown on his help as it was.
They were closing in and he didn't even see the arrow. Thankfully it didn't take him out of his saddle, but his leafblade fell from his ruined arm. He'd have to find a new one later.
Raekal RP Admin Band OL King of Manetheren
Posts: 82
(2/2/06 11:28 am) Reply
Re: In Whitebridge
Saker glanced back only once, hearing the horns blaring around him, echoing to the hills about the coming victory. The roar of battle was so intense that it was hard to even breathe in the streets. Men were clashing with men atop others' bodies. Andoran commanders, strict and rigid as they were, were already beginning the rally, sending men that had previously fled back into the battle, stopping the rampaging Band's advance at the edge of the bridge. Slowly, Saker realized that the battle was dragging itself to a halt, that the men were beating each other to death in the same spots now, that the bodies were piling up . . .
***
Raekal stepped through the gateway first, saidin raging through him like power undeniable, already reaching out around him, the earth shaking underfoot. The mere thought of this battle boiled his blood, the mere thought that the Band and Andor would both loose their heads THIS much infuriating him. More gateways were opening beside him, though. The Black Tower was coming in force . . . behind the Andorans. Men were flowing out of the gateways, Asha'man standing to the side to watch the soldiers flow past. The Legions, as they had been nicknamed, were raised from those that the Tower could not train to channel. In recent weeks, the numbers inflowing to the Tower had risen by insane amounts, and Raekal and Aran had both seen the potential of this army. Now they watched them go to battle, lining up behind the city of Whitebridge, hearing the still-on-going battle roaring down below.
Raekal glanced over at Aran, who merely nodded once, grimly. They were making their stand here, their position well known. Andor would not forget this. But the Band would not either, and the Black Tower needed powerful allies. Ones who would stand against the Shadow. Recently, Andor had not proven they had these qualities. The Band had.
"FORWARDS!" Raekal roared, the Power amplifying his voice. The army went off, Asha'man leaders among them. Raekal himself let saidin go . . . then re-grabbed it through a small angreal in his fist. Aran had one as well, along with a couple others. Then, the city began to rain death.
***
Saker stared for a few moments, trying to make sense of what he was seeing. A whole new army, clothed in black and roaring loudly, was crashing into the rear of the Andoran forces. They were clawing and pushing their way to the Band, leaving countless fallen behind. Lightning rained down with new ferocity, and Andoran lines were quickly shattering agian.
Saker turned to his fatigued men. This all had to mean one thing: "THE TOWER IS WITH US!" he roared at them, shaking his sword overhead. A small band of mounted men were making their way to him, Elisan among them. Saker took the offered mount, smiling his thanks. His legs ached, covered in a hundred small cuts and marks, and his arms were growing heavy from the slaughter. "FORWARDS TO VICTORY!"
On they went, on they roared, pouring over, under, through, around . . . the Andoran lines vanished in the fierce melee, order forgotten in the favor of chaos.
When the sun broke the horizon, spreading golden rays down upon Whitebridge, it was to a scene of ruin. THe bridge itself was red from blood, covered from one to the other in bodies, some moving, moaning, calling out their thirst. The banks of the river boasted huge body counts as well, the sands of the beaches dyed red. Columns of smoke rose from the town itself, the faint echoes of battle slowly fading away in the morning. The town became quiet, deadly quiet. In the east, there was a line of retreating Andorans still faintly visible, withered, no glory to their hurried march. In the city, Saker slowly found his friends, his loved ones . . . in the midst of the death, he let his cover crack.
He was covered from head to toe in blood, some his own, most his enemies. He slowly sank to the ground. Arrows lay about on the stones underfoot, bodies everywhere . . .
"Start cleaning up," he ordered. "We don't move until the dead are buried, the wounded patched up." Men moved away to carry out his orders. Saker cleaned hsi sword with a rag and sheathed it slowly. "What has happened here?" he asked hollowly. "How could . . . how could I let this happen?"
(Raekal Dunshain) -- First Stormleader Asha'man Bonded to Brenna Selanos (Saker Mandell) -- King of Manetheren (Rahien Shan) -- King of Arafel (Vadin Shan) -- Bonded to Laura Sedai
The Edge of the Legion
Curlan led his scouts into the midst of the fray screaming like it would be their last ride. For a few of them it was. Thankfully, it was only two, but that was still more then Curlan would have liked to see.
Lord Elisan was reached with a fair amount of ease, but the hell bent cavalry charge soon lost its momentum. It seemed the entire bridge was due to stall out and become the death of everyone on it. He could still see the swirl of men around Lord Saker, but he feared they would never reach him and he would simply be overwhelmed.
Rodgin stepped out of his gateway as the newly formed Legion set itself into battle formation. He hoped these men had payed attention to his teachings for his life depended on them today. He simply moved to the front of his formation of men and waited for the call.
Raekal's voice echoed over the battlefield and he led the men screaming for the Andorian lines. He channelled a wave of earth in front of his men, tossing Andorian soldiers about the field.
Then, the two lines of soldiers clashed. The andorian lines held for a moment, then broke under the combined weight of the Legion and the lightning that fell from the sky. Rodgin lost himself in the Void, dancing in and out of the mass of bodies, slashing high, a parry, riposte and lunge. Red soldiers fell in his wake as the Tower pushed closer to the band.
Curlan found himself on the bridge as the sun was setting. It was amazing that he even still stood. He had to find his blade though. Lords Saker and Elisan had been saved. His scouts had survived, and the Tower proved to be a solid ally. And the wolves......
He reached out tenativly to them, seeing if any had been killed in this fighting. All of them were still alive. The fighting had been kept far from them. Curlan breathed a sigh of releif and pulled away from the wolves again, catching sight of his leafblade. He reached down for it and his knees gave out, the arrow finally finishing the job it had started.
Email This To a Friend
Topic Commands
Click to receive email notification of replies 
Click to stop receiving email notification of replies