Stradia: The Fourth War - Chapter 1 "The North Falls"

[Loki, The Fallen]

Vincent was absorbed in the battle. He watched his fellow countrymen being struck down, wishing he had the skill to protect them further. He saw waves of arrows crashing against the main force in the distance, the ones too far away for him to affect. Please live. Avelia, let them live so I can help them…

“Father Vincent! I need you!”

Vince spun around, looking at the monk and the fallen soldier she held, his wound oozing blood on the trampled grass. The soldiers groans told Vincent that he lived, and was conscious. That I can help! Yes, immediate-

It struck. The arrow tore through his cloak, and ripped into him. Pain exploded in Vincent’s chest with such force that he left his saddle. As he fell time appeared to slow to a stop for him. He looked down at the arrow that had sprouted from him, the blood leaving the wound. It slowly stained his cloak. A cry erupted from somewhere around him. "NOOOOO! Betrayer! Traitor!" Surely that can’t be true. Vincent looked back to the source, seeing an un-mounted horse. Vincent looked to the sky as he fell to the ground. He inhaled. Praise be to The Light! He landed with a painful thud onto the ground, next to the fallen soldier. He laid there motionless for a few moments, his mind processing what had just occurred, coming to grips with the pain the trespasser provided him with.

I’m alive.

That realization startled him. He moved his fingers and toes. He moved his head left and right. He took stock of the situation he was in. Chaos surrounded him. He returned his eyes to the sky, peace, which appeared unaware of the battle, the clouds and sun drawing him away.

I have much to do.

Vince tore himself from the ground. The shaft of the arrow wiggled painfully. He placed a hand on it to remove it, having done so to others in the past. He cried out, the incredible pain from the movement he imparted on it nearly flattened him. Vince regained himself. I can’t do it. He turned to the soldier. He needs help quickly… Kneeling next to him, Vince removed a small leather covered bit from his pouch and placed it in the man’s mouth. He cradled the fallen one’s head, placing his index finger on the base of his skull, and placed his other hand over the soldier’s injury. He looked directly in the soldiers eyes.

Forgive me.

Vince opened the gates, flooding the soldier with his unrestricted power. The soldier bit forcefully on the object in his mouth. Although he was drawing as much pain from the soldier as possible using his other hand, the sudden force of the closing wound made it past Vince. It ended quickly, the soldier’s look of pain being replaced by one of relief. Vince removed the bit. The soldier was awestruck, but before he could speak,

Sir, before you stand, please remove this from me. Quickly.

The soldier quickly understood. Vince braced himself, and shut his eyes. The soldier did well, quickly ripping the shaft from Vince’s chest. He grunted, trying to surpress his own pain as not to discourage the soldier. That may not have worked, as he bit his lip hard enough to draw blood. Seconds later Vince slammed his hand over the wound and quickly channeled enough energy to close the wound, noting to himself that he would need to fix the deep tissue injuries later. He looked at the soldier.

Thank you. Now lets both be more careful, we have families to return to.

The soldier’s awestruck look left him. Yes Father! He then returned to assisting the others.

Vincent gathered himself, still sore from the fall, and picked himself up. He felt the pain, a sharp reminder that he still had to finish his treatment later. He looked down at the arrow, seeing only a shaft. Praise Avelia, The Light’s protection surely saved my life this day!

Vincent turned to the concerned, I’m sorry for troubling you all.

[Mintaro]

OOC: Hurray Azisien is back. Now I'll write up a post.

Penn spared another glance over his shoulder. Ahead of him the enemy troops were breaking off pursuit of the few stragglers and turning to charge at the oncoming reinforcements. It left him with a good path back to his own troops. Placing a hand onto the back of his mount he began muttering a prayer. A soft light grew on the horse's skin where he touched it. Spreading into its body before fading quickly. The horse picked up a sudden spurt of speed. Its exhaustion gone. Penn new better than to push the horse too hard. As it was now he could ride this mount until its heart exploded and it would never know it needed to stop.

Penn maneuvered easily around the moving enemy. Heading instead back towards his archers. If the trolls were foolish enough to follow they could finish the three off. Penn seriously hoped he'd just give up. After all there was much blood to be shed running towards them. Troll or no Troll, he figured even he might balk at an obvious death.

[TheBlindMime]

As the slight tremor shook the land and spooked his horse Loki drew back on the reign's of his borrowed steed, he spoke like a war-hardened general issuing orders to his troops. "Hold men, keep those strings taut and be at the ready." Surveying the battlefield before him, Loki saw trolls running for their lives. Trolls whom had the advantage but a few seconds hence.

"We've won." One of the archers stated boldly.

"Not yet lad." Loki had never seen war himself but the tales past down about the epic dwarves of lore were tales of battles that lasted days amidst wars that lasted years; not tales of battles that lasted minutes in a war that spanned a few days. The truth was a bitter one. "This war has just begun."

[Azisien]

As the lightning passed across the sky, the cries of the wounded became apparent, especially to the ears of Ariosto. Not everyone, it seems, had been immediately slain in the battle. A quick glance in the direction of most of the corpses revealed that many were still alive and trying to move. One swordsman had a horrible gash across his stomach, but still gripped his sword and buckler as he crawled sporadically north. A little south, another soldier was trying to crawl feebly to his allies, one of his legs shattered. Several others were also trying to move, while those farther gone stuck to cries of pain or animal sounds.

Zoreg calculated the speed and distance of Penn's warhorse and hurled the spear. It flew with a perfect curve and an incredible speed. Just before the spear struck down the horse, it took off at a much greater pace. Zoreg's spear plowed into the ground and impaled itself a quarter of the way down the shaft. "Raaaaaaarrrrrggghhhh!! Stoopid big dog can't do dat!"

The troll lieutenant stopped his charge; his prey was quickly disappearing. Enraged, Zoreg slapped one of his bodyguards in the face with the back of his huge hand. "Dis yer fawlt!" When he looked back north, he saw that the Kenshurian reinforcements weren't even bothering to engage the remains of his contingent. Instead, they were veering around the trolls with the superior speed of their horses and heading southeast to eventually meet up with their allies. "Cowwards!!"

******

As Loki surveyed the battlefield, he saw the reinforcements curving around the Venurians and riding a little east of where Loki now sat. The remaining militia readied their horses or chased the beasts around if they had unmounted during the battle. One shouted. "Look sir! They aren't going to fight the trolls, they're just coming for us! We should retreat and meet up with them, farther from the enemy..." The archer looked at Penn, who was still riding towards them, and then to Loki. "Sir?"

The soldier Vincent healed now followed him on horseback like a duckling. "The battle seems to be over, Father. I will protect you with my life, since you gave it back to me."

******

Sergeant Sharub grabbed the unconscious Captain Nord by the leg and started dragging him back towards the rest of the force.

"Sergeant, please don't do that. We don't want to inflict any damage on his head." Mithik said quietly. The lieutenant waited until Sharub, more cautiously now, picked Nord up and carried him, before he started to turn around.

"Back to camp. March!"

*******

OOC: Time's running out, team slightly north.

[TheBlindMime]

"Aye Laddie," Loki said softly, his heart aching to chase the retreating Venurians down one by one. "First find anyone who still draws breath, they need to be on a horse now. If you have to bind them to your steeds then so be it. I want no one left behind. Move!" The archers scattered across the field trying to find any wounded still breathing.

It was a grim task, though the battle had ended but a few seconds ago many of the fallen seemed to have been dead a great length of time. Likely cut down in the initial moments of the battle. After inspecting a few corpses that Loki himself crafted the weapons for Loki spotted a man struggling to reach his pike. "Steady soldier," Loki slid off the horse and landed noisily on the battlefield, the wound across the soldiers chest looked deep but the blood flow seemed as if it was slowed. Good Loki thought, There's a good chance the father can help him. "We need to get you atop my horse Laddie."

".. My, I.. I need my pike su-" The soldier began coughing, his chest bobbed up and down unnaturally, "My pike sir. Can't leave it behind."

"Don't worry lad, I'll git yer pike fer you." Lifting up the pike off the body of a troll caused it to stir, the troll leapt up a shocked look in his eye and a deep gash in his arm. He held no weapons and stared into Loki's hard emerald eyes with a frightened visage locked upon his face. There they stood, an unarmed Venurian and Loki with pike in hand. Staring at each other, both waiting for the others reaction to show before moving. Loki was the first to move, "Git out of 'ere." Loki demanded angrily, the troll willingly fled making his way across the field as fast as a trotting horse.

Looking down at the pikeman who still struggled for breath, "Lets get you home laddie." Loki raised the man onto his shoulder, then surveyed his next obstacle. The tall horse.

"Please sir, I need you to tell my wife-", The man spoke painfully as he rest upon the shoulders of the tiny dwarf, Loki would hear none of it.

"Plenty o' time fer you to deliver that message yerself laddie." Breathing in deep the tiny dwarf focused his energies on himself and his armor, he steadily grew taller until he was just over six feet. He gently lay the man atop the steed using the pike to steady the man. Loki then took his spot on the horse as well, the horse immediately complained about the weight. Loki shrunk back down to his usual height a little sorrowful he could no longer reach the stir-ups... again. Riding towards the now shifting group he caught sight of the archers, amongst the three of them they had found two survivors, both looked no better then Loki's. "Y'see laddie, we don't leave our men behind. Now we just need to reach the father and you'll be back home with yer beautiful wyfe in no time. You'll see." Loki pat the soldier reassuringly as they rode to the group. The archers nodded to Loki as he returned to the collective, "This is everyone then?" Loki spoke softly hoping not to disturb the wounded.

"Yes sir." The archers spoke in unison, the one with no survivor seemed shamed by the outcome. Then eyed Loki's quarry with some confusion, "Sir, did you want us to carry back the bodies as well?"

"Wut kinnda question is that laddi..." Loki looked down to the man resting on his steed, the man was at peace now with his pike in hand. "Keep moving lads, lest the Virnurans return." Loki pat the corpse in front of him gently tears forming in his eyes, I'll git you home laddie, that I promise.

[Barahad]

Graeme's initial reaction to the strangely robed gargoyle's magic had been shock and disbelief. He watched as Nord was pulled away across the ground, more quickly than any near him could react.

Graeme's mind raced. The gargoyle and his men stood away from the rest of the Venurian company, almost indifferent to the Kenshurians gathering across from them. Yet the gargoyle wielded powerful magic. A rescue attempt would be dangerous. But could Graeme leave Nord in the clutches of the Venurians?

...no...

...NO.

"NO!" Graeme was surprised at his own volume. Then he whirled to the rangers, knights and men gathered near him. "We must rescue the captain! Rangers, archers! Bring down the Venurians accompanying the robed one! Men of the long patrol, Kenshurians! To me!" Graeme turned his horse about and aimed himself at the Venurians halfway across the field. One of the gargoyles had just begun to drag the unconscious captain away by the foot, before stopping and lifting him from the ground.

Graeme's eyes narrowed, and his mouth set. There was nothing for it now. He moved his horse forward, then reined it in. He levelled his blade at the small Venurian company as it moved away. "Attack!"

[Aieris]

As the brilliantly armored sergeant swung his blade down in a futile, albeit dramatic, gesture, Aieris sighed inwardly. He looked grand, sharp, heroic, and to Aieris, stupid. But there was no help for it, she would be expected to help out. The Venurians were leaving, which meant that they would all stay alive and she could begin to search for survivors to question, except that if she let this Captain be taken away without at least joining in the rescue attempt, then she would likely be severely disciplined by the remaining Kenshurians.

As all this floated through her mind, she was drawing an arrow from her quiver. As she drew the red fletchings to her ear and sighted along the length of the shaft, she yelled out for the benefit of the other archers that remained.

"Bring down the minions first, leave the one in white for last" she yelled as she poured power into the arrow in front of her. She was not sure if the tactic had worked earlier, but she would try it again now to find out. "And if you value your lives, cover your bloody eyes!" she yelled as she loosed the arrow.

This time the arrow screamed as it flew towards its target, the gargoyle dressed in white. It would explode in its blinding light mere feet away from its target, and she hoped that not only would it turn around upon hearing the screaming of the arrow, but that her....allies....would cover their eyes. If not, she had a horse, and could hopefully make it away from the gargoyles before they caught her.

Regardless, as that arrow was in the air she drew another, her eyes closed. She would wait for the explosion of light to come, and once it passed, she would be ready. Her life may depend on it.

[Jtab]

"Sorcerer!" the cry rang in Bentis’ ear as he left his mount. Turning, he scanned the battlefield for the source of his company’s uproar. Soon he spotted a gargoyle robed in white and, more disconcertingly, the Kenshurian Captain Nord whom the beast loomed over. As the Kenshurian troops scrambled in confusion and likely a mild amount of fear, another gargoyle approached the injured Captain and took him into his monstrous arms.

The group of gargoyles was small in number though still intimidating. An aura of ferocity emanated from the Venurian band as they turned to march away. All eyes remained on the Captain Nord as many struggled with what they should do.

"NO! We must rescue the captain! Rangers, archers! Bring down the Venurians accompanying the robed one! Men of the long patrol, Kenshurians! To me!" a voice came booming over the soldiers, giving them some much needed guidance. It did not take long for Bentis to recognize where the commands we’re coming from. It was the Sergeant to whom he had been assigned, Graeme. The heavily armored figure raised his blade and directed it towards the retreating Venurians.

“Attack!”

There was little hesitation as the Kenshurian riders began their charge to regain the lost Captain Nord. Bentis followed suit, leaving his horse for the wounded.

[Azisien]

The distance between Mithik and the Kenshurians was about three hundred feet, but that did not hinder Aieris's shrieking arrow. Many of the Venurians in the back ranks turned toward the noise, as did Mithik and his bodyguards. "Excellent, the magician reveals himself." The arrow exploded less than fifteen feet away from the gargoyle lieutenant, causing a brilliant flash just as before. Mithik reeled back in pain and turned his head around, eyes firmly closed. His other bodyguards did the same. "That will not happen again!" The roar carried across the field to those who charged by Graeme's orders.

Several arrows whizzed by while the Venurians were blinded, but none met their mark due to the distance. Sharub had stumbled and nearly dropped Nord, but managed to catch him even in his blindness. The three other bodyguards started to recover and took up a defensive position around their leader.

Graeme and the knights were already two hundred and fifty feet across, while Bentis was one hundred and twenty. Mithik blinked furiously, his eyes tearing slightly. "Damn." He stomped a foot into the earth, and listened intently to the splatter of water it made. He raised both of his arms and his pupils became a cloudy white. Intimately connected to the water he had summoned earlier, the lieutenant cast his next spell. Uttering words one could not pronounce without months of training, the watery ground by Mithik's foot frozen solid. The ice spread with wholly unnatural speed, from where he stood out onto the field. Within seconds, as the Kenshurians were coming to the end of their charge, the path of water he had created earlier frozen over completely. To seal the deal, Mithik touched his mind to the ice once more, and melted a thin layer on the surface.

His pupils returned and he exhaled heavily, beads of sweat collecting on his forehead. He looked at his approaching challengers and the horses they rode on. Not a single one kept its footing. Bentis, who had been moving much slower, managed not to fall, but traversing the last hundred and fifty feet over slippery ice would be an interesting feat.

"BEHOLD, KENSHURA! WATCH AS YOUR CHAMPIONS FALL!"

******

The reinforcements, twenty men and elves on horseback, reached Loki, Vincent, Ishva, and the surviving militia. The elf in charge identified himself as a corporal. "Avelia's Light! The Venurians were here too! But, how? We passed this place on the way to the battle." He didn't wait for a response, and continued. "The battle does not go well for us; we have lost many. But the Venurians will be licking their wounds as well!" The corporal looked around. "Who is in charge here?"

[TheBlindMime]

The archers turned to Loki, Loki who had looked to the archers to see which of them was in charge quickly realized it was he. He of course raised his arm and spoke boldly. "I'm in charge here." Loki motioned to his rag tag group of survivors, "Most of us were wounded in the ambush, that includes the good Father Vincent. We'll be stabilizing the wounded and then we can be on our way back to Gole, your assistance of course would be greatly appreciated."

Loki had never been in charge of anything but a steel mill, this was going to be interesting if nothing else.