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

[Barahad]

Graeme heard the cry of “Archers!” as he pushed his horse into a head-long charge. He raised his shield up overhead and felt the angry splintering of arrow shafts as they struck off it. He winced as several arrows bounced off his side. There would be bruises there, but it appeared that his armour had held. Graeme had not expected an ambush of this sort, but there was nothing to do now that they had made their presence known. He would continue the charge, and force the company amongst the Venurians. If the archers wished to continue firing on his men, they would have to risk striking their own in the process.

Turning in his saddle, he pointed at the pell-mell combat which had broken out to his front. “Drive as deep among them as you can! CHARGE!” He wasn’t sure if his orders had carried over the thunder of hooves until he heard a sergeant slightly behind him repeat the order. The orders made their way back amongst the company, and Graeme turned to look at the enemy company. The charge had carried them close, and he could see trolls and gargoyles moving to reform their ranks to deal with the approach of the second company. They had partially succeeded when the second company struck. The first rank gave way beneath the momentum of horse and rider: trolls and gargoyles hurled to the ground and trampled underfoot. It was much the same with the second rank of Venurians, though the gargoyles managed to keep their feet for the most part, their wickedly long weapons taking several militiamen from the mortal world. Soon these too gave way beneath the avalanche of horse and rider and the second company found itself among the Venurians.

Using the momentum remaining from his charge, Graeme spied a ferocious looking gargoyle, its flesh and armour bathed in blood, readying itself to meet the second Kenshurian charge. It spied him and brought its halberd to the ready. Graeme smiled grimly and picked the point on the Venurian he would target. Manoeuvring his horse with his legs, Graeme swept in and, with a flick of his wrist, threw the creatures halberd away from his body. In that moment, the gargoyle was vulnerable, and Graeme struck, thrusting his spear forward into the joint which separated the breastplate and the gorget.

There was the sharp, high protest of tearing mail, mixed with the hard crack of splintering wood. The tip of the spear plunged through the creature’s shoulder and ripped through its back. The creature cried out in surprise, then staggered backwards as Graeme thrust the broken remnants of his spear at a troll which had run up beside him. The troll ran full on into the splintered wood, and buried long splinters in its own throat. Graeme released the broken haft of the spear and drew his sword in a fluid motion, bringing it down on the troll’s skull. There was the crunch of breaking bone, and the creature fell to the ground. Without pausing, Graeme turned to the wounded gargoyle.

It snarled and lunged, but Graeme’s sword parried the blow. The creature seemed drunk with rage and injury, and was not fighting effectively as it otherwise might. There would be no time wasted in this combat, Graeme decided. He struck at the creature’s neck and felt his sword score and tear the gorget which protected the gargoyle’s throat. As he finished his first blow, he reversed the direction of his strike and passed his sword along the same area. This time, instead of finding hard steel, it found the gargoyle’s flesh, and tore open its throat. The gargoyle staggered back, clutching at its new injury, as Graeme pitilessly drove his blade through the creature’s neck. Its eyes widened in surprise, then dulled as death took it.

“Forward!” Graeme shouted, though he feared his voice was lost in the din of combat. He laid furiously about him with his sword, striking at trolls and gargoyles as they came in reach, assisting the men of his company where he could. A militia man was thrown down beside him, bludgeoned by a troll’s hammer, and Graeme struck out, his sword striking across the creature’s chest, opening it from shoulder to shoulder. The troll began to fall backward as another Kenshurian militia man passed his spear through its chest, just to be certain. Many of the company had lost their mounts, and struggled mightily on foot against the Venurian enemy. Graeme did his best to keep the men organized, but the chaos of battle meant that the formation was imperfect and subject to sudden changes.

It would be a long fight.

[Jtab]

*Crunch*

The sound of the rider who had fallen moments ago was barely audible to Bentis over the clashing of steel and thundering of hooves. Whether by luck or the will of Avelia that was the closest the volley would come to the unarmored soldier. Numerous combatants, both Venurian and Kenshurian, had already fallen as Bentis surveyed the battle immediately surrounding him. He was mere seconds from piercing the Venurian front line with the rest of this squad.

“Drive as deep among them as you can! CHARGE!” the order came, shrill and clear.

The wave of men directly ahead of Bentis crashed into the Venurian forces, creating a gap in through which the company would continue to press. The staff-wielding youth followed suit, stampeding deeper into the enemy forces. Soon he was met by a gargoyle who appeared intent on at least slowing the endeavors of the rushing warriors. It readied its massive halberd with a sneer. Bentis had not learned much of mounted combat in his relatively short time with the militia, but basic evasion was one lecture he was sure to soak in. Gripping his quarterstaff much like a lance, he leaned forward and brought his body close to that of his steed. As he closed the gap to just outside striking distance of the gargoyle, he cut to his left before spearing forward with his staff. Catching the halberd just below the blade, he forced the two weapons upwards, clearing himself and his horse from danger for the moment. Now still half a foot in front of his prey, Bentis recovered from his parry in time to club the now vulnerable gargoyle, striking the bridge of the beast’s deformed nose with a wicked swing of his stick. The momentum of his mount added greatly to the sickened crunch that resulted.

Slowing his progress to keep pace with the rest of the Kenshurian companions, Bentis spotted a troll charging in his direction. Grasping his staff with both hands near one end, he came down fiercely on the trolls head before it had come close enough to present a real threat. Numbers we’re looking to dwindle on both sides of this contest, but that was not something Bentis could afford to think about right now. Now was when he had to remain focused, lest he join the rider preceding him in the earlier charge.

[Mintaro]

Penn's sword danced around him like lightning. Warding off the blows of the attackers before him. His warhorses teeth biting at exposed Troll faces, occasionally a slight rear, causing the encroaching attackers to back away from flailing hooves. It seemed even trolls had the good sense not to come too close to an angry horse. A sudden weight came upon his blade. He saw runes appear on himself and his body. Be felt his horse balk at the sudden increase on his back.

Sparing a glance behind him he saw the short man in full plate covered in the same runes. "This isn't good." "Loki, your plate may be too heavy for my mount. Go in and bash some knees!" Turning forward he heard a vicious war cry and felt a weight come off the back of the horse. A flying silver man was seen from the corner of his eyes. Several being brought to their knees by the sudden cannon ball like attack.

Then a glow, an aura of shimmering light emanated from him. He felt that Avelia was with him. "FOR KENSHURA!" Penn screamed it loudly. Several others taking up the cry. Penn attacked with his heavy sword. Thankful he was wearing leather armor. One swing broke through the defense of a very unlucky troll, cutting deep into its sword shoulder. Penn followed it up with a slice across its face. It was quickly replaced by another troll. He felt a sharp pain in his side from his left. Turning his head he saw a troll had managed to get a spear through his leather. Quickly hacking off the spear haft he kicked the pole away, making room for a militia man to get in a good slice at the trolls chest. Cutting through the armor but leaving the troll unharmed. Penn pulled the spear head from his side he felt the wound with his free hand, it wasn't very deep, he would live. The wound wasn't worth healing. It should have been a lot worse. "I guess Avelia is with us in this battle" He thought to himself. Then he saw an opening

Kicking heals to his horse he shouted an order to the militia. "Fill the gap!" His horse broke through a gap in the enemy lines, making it to the free space beyond the Venurian force. Sliding his sword into its scabbard he drew out his bow. Setting his horse into a quick pace. He began taking careful aim. Shooting at exposed leg places in the enemy force. He saw that they had lost much ground. Bodies of enemy and ally alike made a path from where the battle had begun. Sadly it looked like, even with lesser numbers, their casualties were greater. Penn silently cursed himself for picking so many archers.

Taking careful aim he made each shot count. One troll took a shot to the leg, making it cry out in pain, clutching back at the arrow. Allowing another archer to feather his neck with a bolt. Making him gurgle and fall to the ground.

Then he saw the source of many of the deaths in his troops. A massive troll and two slightly smaller ones with him. All battling like mad creatures. Making the horse pick up speed he rode around to the other side and took careful aim.

[Azisien]

Sergeant Ereagus surveyed the battle with a hard face, sitting atop his horse on the grasslands to the south. He watched as the charge tactic unfolded and, ultimately, failed. The Venurians had feinted surprise, when in reality they had been prepared the entire time. It had looked like dozens were lost in that first charge against their rows of spearmen. The pull back was also sloppy, but it was enough to make the second charge successful. The knight led his hundred deep into heart of the Venurian company that was now beginning to dwindle. Captain Nord was out of sight now, but he couldn't be much farther north in the melee than the knight.

Then, Ereagus saw the dead left behind when all the other Kenshurians had rode straight into the enemy. At least twenty bodies littered the ground, pierced by arrows. Some horse carasses were littered among them, while some of the mounts had survived and were fleeing the scene. He watched as half of the Venurian company retreated north, and even heard the booming voice of a gargoyle commander. His eyes wandered east slightly, to a relatively large incline in the plains. He looked back at the dead Kenshurians and judged the distance. He had not seen any arrow volleys from the main force. "They've moved the archers! Three groups get over that hill, go, GO! MOVE OUT!"

There was a death cry to the south. Ereagus turned his horse to the east so he could look in the direction of the noise. "Venurians at the old battlefield!" It was hard to see, and impossible to get a count, but the tellatale signs of battle were unmistakeable. "Last group, reinforce our men over there! Kenshurians are dying you whelps, MOOOOVE!"

An additional twenty militia took off at a gallop, southbound. They would reach Father Vincent and the others within a minute. His force distributed, Sergeant Ereagus took another glance at the main battle. "Captain, you're on your own." He smacked his horse and sent it into a mad gallop. Ahead, sixty of his own men were making their way up the incline.

*********

Captain Nord brought his long sword down hard, driving it through the gargoyle's tough chainmail armor, through the beast, and into the ground. Swearing, he tried to yank the sword back up out of the corpse with no success. A yelp of pain to his right made him glance over to see a gargoyle bowl right over one of his rangers and head straight for him. He gave the sword another quick yank with no success, but the Venurian covered more ground then he had expected. He tried to dodge an incoming spearpoint and only succeeded in saving his life; he felt the metal point scrape against the bone in his left shoulder before reacting. With a furious yell, he unsheathed his backup short sword and sliced the spear in two. Before the gargoyle could retreat, Nord jumped forward and slashed hard downwards, lopping off both of its hands. The Venurian roared with a rage and agony that made his own warcry sound like a mouse squeak. Two nearby knights saw the Captain's injuries and immediately came to his aid, cutting down the gargoyle assailant for good.

Only thirty Venurians from the first half of their company were still alive, compared to one hundred and thirty Kenshurians. The remaining enemies, mostly gargoyles now, had encircled Nord and his knights and rangers, hoping to score an officer kill. The gigantic beasts attacked in pairs or trios, and sometimes all at once. Leaning in, striking, and pulling back. As one knight kneeled down to help Nord with his injury, one of the rangers on the northern side of their defensive line lost his head to a particularly large double axe. Two other rangers and a knight quickly tried to fill the hole, but they wouldn't last another minute without reinforcements. From their vantage point, no other Kenshurians were visible, only the massive eight and nine foot tall Venurian warriors.

Suddenly, one of the gargoyles launched into the air and hovered for a few quick moments, just enough to ready his spear. The Venurian gave a particularly strong wing stroke to steady his mighty throw and dropped back to the ground. The spear flew straight and level, right for Nord. The knight had watched the attack and shoved the Captain out of the way, and moving forward slightly in the motion. The point blossomed out of his chest and impaled him into the ground face first. Nord couldn't help but look at the now dead eyes of the man, just for a moment; dead forever, and to save the life of a man he didn't even really know.

Standing up, Nord ripped the half-spear out of his shoulder and jumped into the defensive line himself, weapon arm swinging wildly. He would find that gargoyle.

*************

"Second volley away, prepare third volley!" Lieutenant Oyo shouted to his men. He nocked his own arrow and drew the string back three-quarters. "Ready."

A brilliant light exploded in the sky, seemingly out of nowhere. It didn't blind Oyo, but it forced him to look down. "Halt!" He heard several of his men release, and one cry of pain somewhere in the ranks. Several arrows flew randomly over the hill, others didn't quite make it over at all. A gargoyle sergeant grunted to the lieutenant. "Zugg got shot in the leg."

Oyo looked up. "We've got bigger problems." To the southwest, dozens of Kenshurian riders were charging down the hill straight for his contingent. "Prepare third volley!"

************

The Kenshurians at the old battlefield fought valiantly, but it was clear this skirmish would go to the Venurians. More then half of their men were now dead, crushed and maimed by Zoreg and his men. The great troll lieutenant rushed forward once more, hurling his chain at another militia archer. The archer fired off his arrow with barely any pull and the projectile lodged itself in the ground just as the mace crushed his knee cap. Silent with shock, the Kenshurian grasped his ruined leg and fell over. To Zoreg's right, his bodyguard killed the last Kenshurian pikeman.

Only five militia remained, four archers and one swordsman, as well as Penn, Loki, Ishvah, and Vincent. The latter, at least, were putting up a good fight.

Zoreg wheeled around to look for Ariosto as one of his elites cut down the last militia swordsman. "Hey! Look at yur 'ittle wood chunks go!" The idiot lieutenant yelled, but he was right. The golems moved at an impressive pace considering what they were made of. Into Ishvah's circle they charged, attempting to hack apart the magical martial artist with their conjured long swords.

An arrow flew from behind, piercing through Zoreg's half plate joint at the base of his right arm. The lieutenant roared and turned around, ignoring the wound. He saw the shooter quite a few feet away, already loading another arrow from atop his horse. "YOU! YOUS GONNA FEEL PAIN!" Zoreg began a ridiculously fast and reckless charge, heading straight for Penn. His right arm was apparently still functional, since the troll happily readied his chain-mace.

Meanwhile, the entranced Kenshurian archer took careful aim at Father Vincent, pulled back the string to its full extent, and adjusted for distance slightly. The arrow would not fall much at this distance. Simon the humble farmer gladly released his grip on the string and let the arrow fly at the chest of his own ally and priest. The deadly projectile flashed through the air, almost too fast to follow since it had to cover little distance, and struck Vincent. Around the priest's chest, an angry upwelling of bright yellow light exploded as the arrow reached him. When the light cleared, the good priest was falling off his horse from shock, while a shaft and fletching were clearly visible protruding from his chest.

[Akamaz]

As the wooden monstrosities made their way into Ishva's "circle", she took notice of their movements, it appeared that their combat ability was limited to a small repetiore of moves, their advantage lay in the fact that there semed to be no weak points to exploit and didn't seem to tire. Then she realised just what she was facing, and stifled a laugh. She had been practicing on wooden dummies like this since her earliest days as a novice of the order, and surely fists that could crack stone would make short work of simple wood.

As she moved to strike one with the rising dragon fist, the words of her Master came to her "Boards don't hit back"... Unfortunatly these golems did. One scored her across her bare forearm as she closed. She decided to switch tactics, and move to try to get these automatons tangled with one another.

[TheBlindMime]

Loki had been swinging his hammers with the might and rage worthy to be known as a dwarf. Snapping pikes in twain with his defensive swings from high atop the stallion. As the battle continued at a frantic pace he was having difficulty maintaining his balance and powerful strikes from atop the horse, as his army gleamed with dark seals it became even worse suddenly.

Loki had spent enough time watching the battle from above, he stood atop the stallion's saddle and muttered a few words in a language few took the time to learn. His armor creaked and groaned as they filled with Loki's sudden muscle gain added to the horses already heavy burden.

Originally Posted by Penn

"Loki, your plate may be too heavy for my mount. Go in and bash some knees!"

"RAAARRGGGHHHH!" Loki roared beastly as he took flight, bringing his knees up and his hammers down he caught a group of trolls unaware. The stout dwarf was a heavy one, even more so when he strengthened himself with his shapeshifting, adding plate and an enchantment to weigh down his equipment made him nigh unstoppable.

He slid over the center pike man's weapon and his knees caved in the troll's chest, instinctively the pike fell from his hands and his arms clasped around Loki feebly trying to catch the now unstoppable force. Loki took advantage of their surprise slamming down his hammers into the opposing trolls on either side, rewardingly he felt the spray of blood as their skulls collapsed. The four collapsed into a dog pile, no more then a second later Loki sprang up centered his boot over the middle troll and forced his foot down. The troll gasped but one more bloody breath before his nose and the back of his skull meshed.

Loki looked up menacingly, there was a small circle of confusion around him one troll rushed forward with his sword in hand. Loki raised his hammer and pointed it towards the approaching troll with an unearthly growl, the troll felt a sudden sweep of terror. Still he moved forward and took a heavy handed swing at Loki, moving deftly outside the attack Loki swing backhandedly into the trolls elbow. The arm inverted with a horrendous cracking noise that went unheard amongst the battlefield's din, the troll's sword fell into the dirt harmlessly. As he clutched his elbow he felt the second hammer strike him in the spine, his legs went numb and he fell upon his sword struggling for breath, Loki left him crippled but not dead.

He didn't lose the momentum of his steps as a second troll this one with pike in hand thrust forward his attack. Loki shifted his head to the right in surprise the pike grazing his cheek, if it weren't for the blessing of Avelia it would have cut him. His helm was not so lucky, it supported a heavy graze on the left. "RAUWRGGGHHH!!!" Loki deftly swung his arms in the alternate direction now, catching the trolls knee with the first strike and his abdomen with the second.

As his grip had loosened in the first strike on the fourth troll of the battle, Loki had to re-grip the weapon. This had put the spiked end in-between the poor trolls ribs, naturally Loki twisted the hammed down. The troll screamed and raised his pike to strike again. Loki raised up his foot and kicked the troll back as he heaved back on the hammer. Separating a rib and freeing his weapon Loki smiled only to have the pike's point strike his head as the troll flailed to the ground.

Stumbling backwards with newfound shards of steel in his face Loki had to force his eyes open in his body's sudden shock. His blurred vision revealed at least ten menacing figures marching towards him, as he raised his weapons up in what would be a futile attempt at battling his way out Loki was pushed forward by a large figure behind him. His eyes became clearer as he turned up to see a horse with a dead rider upon its back, it was wondering the field in a panic and Loki, though he hated to, slapped the horses shoulder with his hammer. It like most Kenshuran mounts was trained to rear up on command, obeying the command it raised its leg upwards. The trolls stepped back eying the new and somewhat large threat, Loki meanwhile rolled under the beast and gave it a second slap against its hips. It charged heroically into the trolls who cut into it as best they could as the dead rider's horse trampled them.

As Loki surveyed his new surrounding he saw the final four archers firing into the approaching trolls. "KENSHURA!!!" Loki bellowed, drawing as much attention to himself as possible as he charged forward. His shapeshifting was still working well, he sprinted across the field as deftly as an antelope, swinging a single hammer at a time and then spiraling away from his attack in a frantic attempt to keep up his pace. The archers fortunately took note of him and began firing into his targets just before he reached them.

Death surrounded him as the final remnants of the search party fell around him, Loki charged on. On the battlefield there is no time to spare on the dead. I must save the living. In the time it took Loki to move the twenty feet and kill 3 Venurian trolls only 1 troll reached the archers and he was rewarded for his effort with a arrow to his skull. Loki turned around as he reached the archers, taking the place of their forward line, unfortunately he faced overwhelming odds. Those that survived his attempted trampling joined into the group already on the way for the archers. Loki turned to the archers, his mind set on commanding them to retreat and leave him behind. Assuredly Kenshuran horses can outrun trolls, but not with two riders.

As he turned though he saw something he did not expect at all, three archers took aim at the approaching attack wave, the final archer took aim into Kenshuran lines. Loki watched horrified as the arrow flew into Father Vincent's chest. "NOOOOO!" Hooking the archer's bow with his hammer Loki yanked him from his mount. As he looked up from the ground he saw Loki's outraged and bloodied face for only a moment before his hammer plowed down into his skull. "Betrayer! Traitor!"

Loki continued to slam his hammer's down into the man's skull mercilessly as the trolls continued to cover ground. "Sir! Troll's Approaching!" One of the archers called out as he fired into the group. Coming to his senses Loki swung his hammer around the pomnel of the saddle and pulled himself up with an unnatural ease. "RETREAT! Protect the Father!" Loki gripped the saddle with his knees uneasily as the stirred the horse into a gallup, were his legs but a foot longer he could reach the stir-ups. He guided his horse away from the outraged screams of the trolls who could not keep pace with the horses. Loki grimaced as he shepherded the remaining three archers away from the battle, heroically they continued to fire arrows wherever they could.

So much death for the sake of searching for survivors, these Venurians are devils. Loki released the shapeshifting effect and felt the pang he knew came from overextending the use of his extra muscles. Had he not though, he would assuredly be dead.

[Mintaro]

Penn gave a kick to his horse, urging him to run from the rampaging troll. Putting his legs firmly in the stirrups he raised his body up to allow the horse a larger range of movement. Glancing back he saw the troll keeping up. Pulling the reigns on one side he had his mount go in a slow loop back towards the main group. Seeing they were already starting a retreat, glancing towards the main battle he saw what looked to be approaching troops on horse back. "Reinforcments, Avelia be praised!"

Penn kept his mount riding for his now retreating allies. Pivoting in the stirrups he twisted his body around to look at the chasing troll. Pulling his bow from around his shoulder he took out an arrow, he had enough time to get off two shots and turn back around before he met with the perusing Venurian force.

[Barahad]

The contest had been sharp and fiercely fought, but the Kenshurians had at last gained the upper hand in the battle with the first Venurian company. The bodies of friend and foe alike littered the ground around Graeme, but there was no time to reflect on the dead or care for the dying. He struck down a wounded troll and began yelling orders to the surviving sergeants and corporals.

"Reform your ranks! Those Kenshurians still mounted will assemble on me! Sergeants, find those who have been dismounted and organize them! They will be little use scattered about the field!"

The bulk of the first Venurian company had been slain, but those which yet lived were pressing hard against the rangers, knights, and officers who had been part of the first wave of the attack. The noose was closing about those valiant warriors, and Graeme would have to strike quickly if he were to succeed in their rescue. As mounted soldiers fell in about him, he pointed to the fierce gargoyles which were pressing home their advantage in numbers, size and strength against the Kenshurian vanguard. He turned to one of the militia sergeants. "Sergeant, have the infantry move up behind us as soon as they are organized. We will need a safe place to retreat."

"Your captain stands defiant, surrounded by Venurians!" Graeme cried to the mounted soldiers about him. "We ride to his aid! Kenshurians, CHARGE!" He urged his horse into a trot, then a canter, and finally a straight gallop, the silver of his blade flashing menacingly in the few places it was not stained by the blood of Venurian foes. The cry of the mounted company attracted the attention of the Venurians on the outside of the circle, and they whirled to bring themselves to bear against this new threat. He aimed for where the Venurians were pressing hardest, and drove his horse among them. With a deft parry, he flicked aside a wickedly barbed Venurian spear, and then on the return passed his sword cleanly through the gargoyle's neck. The force of his horse's impact threw another gargoyle off-balance, and before it could recover he lunged forward and stabbed it through the heart. Then, he was surrounded by swirling combat.

"Captain! Knights! Rangers!" He cried through the maelstrom of battle. "Hold as long as you can! We come!" As he finished speaking, his life was brought into mortal peril as two gargoyles moved to attack. Graeme roared, and struck at one, throwing the spear point off target. It passed over his shoulder, and before he could strike at the vulnerable creature, the second gargoyle thrust forward. Turning quickly, Graeme angled his shield to protect as much of his right side as he could. The gargoyle's spear struck with jarring force, and Graeme felt as though his shoulder would be dislodged from its proper place.

He pushed back, and the gargoyle retreated to prepare another blow. A Kenshurian horse crashed to the ground behind him, screaming in pain, the broken shaft of a Venurian spear protruding from its belly. Graeme brought his focus back to the present as the gargoyles struck in tandem. The first parry was simple enough, but it left him dangerously out of position for the second strike. He had no chance to bring his shield into position in time. Instead, he guided his steed with his legs, turning it just enough so that a subtle movement of his shield was enough to stop the Venurian spear. There was the screech of steel upon steel, and Graeme had no doubt his shield had been deeply scored. The advantage of the powerful strike was that the gargoyle had stepped closer than it should have. Graeme did what long training instructed: he swung his shield out, striking at the gargoyle. The creature leapt back in surprise and was taken off balance as another Kenshurian rider swept in to attack.

Having only one opponent to focus on, Graeme turned his full fury on the gargoyle. The ringing of steel striking steel filled his ears as he forced it backwards, step by step, towards the small circle where stood the remaining Kenshurian defenders from the vanguard. Behind him, more militiamen poured into the gap he was creating, forcing the gargoyles to react to this new threat and turning their attention from the surviving knights and rangers. Finally, Graeme struck twice: the first blow pushed the gargoyle's spear out of its proper position. The second blow opened its neck just under its chin. Blood misted into the air as the creature toppled backwards, throwing the gargoyle in front of it off-balance, sending it staggering into the remaining soldiers of the van. It died with Nord's sword passing through its abdomen.

"Captain!" Graeme saluted with his sword as he turned to strike at another gargoyle, forcing it backwards with superficial damage to its armour. "We have come to your aid."

Nord was breathing heavily, his armour soaked in blood, and his face pale. "Thank you, knight." He paused to strike at a gargoyle's exposed leg. It fell back, howling in pain, only to die on the spear of one of its fellows. "We would not have held much longer. There are some injured here. Have your sergeants bear them out as best they can. We will stand against these creatures and make them pay for every drop of blood spilt."

Graeme pressed forward past Nord, striking at a gargoyle to his left, separating the creature's hand from its wrist. This gargoyle hissed in anger and struck with the stump, a blow punishing to both Graeme and the creature. Graeme cut savagely down with the next swing of his blade, striking diagonally and opening the gargoyle from shoulder to hip, even as the knight grunted at the pain of the nasty bruise forming just below his ribs.

"For Kenshura," Graeme answered somberly. Allowing a quick glance behind him, Graeme was pleased to see that the encirclement had been broken, and that even now the surviving gargoyles were being forced to reform into a single, solid, menacing line facing the Kenshurians. The Venurians were being pressed back, but gave their ground only grudgingly, and at high cost to the attacking Kenshurians.

Bolstered by the relatively fresh men of Graeme's company, Nord's surviving knights and rangers found new strength, setting their arrows and swords darting amongst the gargoyles. Two fell to the remaining rangers, two to the knights, and Nord seemed to take grim delight in the death of a menacing gargoyle which had somewhere lost its spear. They were pressing home the attack, but Graeme could not help but worry at the impassive second company of the Venurian force which had not yet committed itself to the attack.

[Azisien]

"Sir, the Kenshurian charge will defeat our men there! We should attack! Together, we could kill them all!" A gargoyle sergeant shouted as he watched his kin die from afar.

Mithik watched the exact same thing, but his expression was calm. "Our men are attaining glory, Sharub. Look at them." The lieutenant pointed where they were both already looking. "Beyond the Venurian cries of pain are many more Kenshurian ones. We are losing men, yes, but so are they. Don't you see?"

The sergeant Sharub was silent and perplexed, as if he were a troll and Mithik had just asked him to find the corner of a circle. Mithik continued. "This is a desperate counteroffensive. Look at how much resistance we've faced up until now, since we set out from Socre. A couple scouting parties, a few brave, but stupid, rangers and knights. Why, I wouldn't be surprised if this was half of the Kenshurian army."

Mithik turned his head to glance at Sharub. "Remember the resistance we faced in Socre? Six hundred humans and elves and dwarves. We attacked the village with over ten times as many, and each of our warriors is worth two of theirs. This is it. This is their attempt to try and strike fear in our hearts, to try and deter us from attacking again! Sharub, we have several hundred warriors waiting at camp! We could have Gole in flames by the time Jyde arrives with the legion."

"I...Think I understand, sir." Sharub said quietly.

"Hmph. Look, it took all of their force to defeat half of ours. Our brave kin fight onwards, demolishing their vanguard. Though..." The pearl-robed lieutenant trailed off into silence.

"Sir?"

"I would dearly like to know who fired that magical arrow. We've encountered so few magicians in this country. And Oyo hasn't fired a volley in several minutes. Hmmm. Sharub, send a hunter to Oyo's contingent. Tell him to begin retreating."

"Yes sir. What of Ariosto and Zoreg?"

"I'll send them a signal. And I would love to snatch a few prisoners while we're here. We can have Ariosto perform an extraction." Mithik moved through several ranks of his men and reached the front rank. From a distance he would show up very obviously. Most of his men wore dark armor or cloth, but he wore a bright white robe.

His eyes had changed; the pupils were slowly fading away. Loud sparks, followed by bright bursts of lightning started to materalize in his hand. He closed his eyes and a tremor pulsed out from his feet. "Where are you, my friend..."

************

Zoreg sprinted after Penn and his horse with a speed that seemed unusual for a troll in half plate. "Keep runnin' 'ittle un, wait 'til yer big dog gits tired!"

Penn launched two arrows in quick succession at the Venurian lieutenant, but Zoreg happily dodged them this time. "Carn't hit me when I lookin'! Heheheh...heh..." The lieutenant looked at his surroundings. "...Heh." And saw the Kenshurian reinforcements enroute. "STOOOP!" All of the remaining trolls, about twenty in number, stopped in their tracks and retreated back from immediate combat. "DARE! TO THE NORT! KILLS DEM!"

Zoreg's contingent retreated from Loki, Ishvah, and Vincent and proceeded to start sprinting northwards to meet the reinforcements. It was then that a random tremor passed, but it was faint and lasted only a moment. The Venurian lieutenant was oblivious; his eyes were set back on the human that had attacked him and his little friends. Finally, his two bodyguards caught up with him. "Gimme a spear!" Zoreg screamed when it was entirely unnecessary.

Through either obedience or fear, his left hand man quickly handed Zoreg a spear. "Come 'ere human! I 'ave present for yer big dog!" The lieutenant charged recklessly once more, tossing half of his chain over his shoulder and holding the rest in his left hand. In his right hand, he readied the spear. His bodyguards charged with him this time.

******

Ereagus saw the gargoyle raise his spear and dove off the horse in a desperate attempt to avoid the killing blow. As he tumbled he heard the death cry of his horse and promised vengeance. Another symphony of bowstrings releasing delivered dozens of arrows into his men. The Kenshurians charged forward nonetheless, one brave rider almost running over his sergeant as he broke through the rank of pikemen into the archers. Ereagus saw briefly as one of the gargoyles snapped the young man's neck before he attacked the infantry in the front line himself.

At the back of the Venurian contingent, Oyo fired arrows every twenty or thirty seconds, scoring a hit nearly every time. He heard the call of a gargoyle hunter and turned to face the northwest. A hunter was indeed barreling down the hill towards him, as fast as any horse.

"What news, hunter!" Oyo yelled rather casually, considering his men were currently in a fight for their lives.

"Mithik has ordered a retreat." The hunter bowed and replied.

Oyo smiled. Hunters were always so respectful. "Hm. Very well." The human turned back to his men. At least twenty had fallen now, but most of the Kenshurian cavalry had been defeated already. "Men! Retreat and regroup!"

"Sir?" The hunter offered an arm.

"If you would be so kind." Oyo took the gargoyle's embrace and was lifted up with one arm. The hunter showed no visible strain on his face, and took off at a sprint that was only slightly slower then before. As one, Oyo's contingent started to retreat with him.

Only one hundred feet away and amidst the corpses of two gargoyles and a troll, Sergeant Ereagus was tempted to push on with the attack. But he had watched dozens of his men die already. "We're outmatched," he muttered, then switched to his typical high volume, "Halt, men! Do not pursue! Regroup! Tend to the wounded!"

******

Mithik opened his eyes. "There they are." He raised his hand and watched as a harmless, but brilliant, bolt of lightning struck about one mile southwards, where he sensed the old battlefield to be. "Now, for the prisoners."

He walked out onto the open grass, becoming a very easy target for any archers, but most of the Kenshurian attention was still on the half dozen gargoyles that were slowly retreating away from the rather large, bloodied, menacing force of Kenshurians. Calmly, Mithik knelt down and placed his left hand on the ground. At several points in a wide line leading from his position all the way to the last of his men by the Kenshurians, Artesian wells sprouted from the ground and began soaking the ground with fresh water. After several seconds, the grass from Mithik to his gargoyles was almost half submerged. "Come, my kin! You've fought well, but we're done here!"

The six gargoyles heard their commander and started retreating quickly, then turned to sprint away. One was cut down by several of the Kenshurian elites, but the other five managed to get away. Mithik scanned closely for any archers, but saw none at the moment. He switched his attention to the Kenshurians themselves. He watched their faces, their movements. He watched who spoke to who, and what each of them on the front line were doing. Just past the front, he spotted a particular human and smiled. "You."

*******

"We should begin our retreat to Gole. Tend to the wounded and get them on horseback. Those able to walk and run should give their steeds to those who cannot. Sir Graeme, take..." Captain Nord's speech was cut off as a large claw made of the earth itself burst out of the ground at his feet and grabbed his right leg. The man at arms looked down, utterly perplexed, when the claw started to drag him away at tremendous speeds. No one managed to grab him in time; they were all too confused or shocked, or didn't even notice until it was too late. He passed the front lines of his men and slid along the grass. The claw made a horrid earthen grinding sound as it phased through the ground, dragging him along. Many of the Kenshurians looked around in disbelief, until they saw where Nord was headed. "Sorcerer!" Fearful cries echoed throughout all the ranks as everyone realized the presence of the gargoyle in pearl-white.

Mithik kneeled, still six feet tall, to meet the good, obviously wounded Captain. With a clench of his gargoyle claw, the conjured earth claw disintegrated. Captain Nord looked up at the Venurian lieutenant and growled angrily. "You will..."

"Not die, yet." Mithik interrupted as the words seemed to entirely escape the Captain. Instead, the injured man began gawping like a fish out of water, started to turn blue and sprawl on the ground, then lost consciousness. Mithik raised his hand and unclenished his fist. There was a brief breeze as air rushed back into the space around the Kenshurian Captain. Mithik started to turn around and yelled to Sharub. "Come, take him away! We're leaving."

Over the hill to the east, Oyo and his contingent reached the top and started their mad dash down the incline towards the rest of their force.

[Lumenskir]

The twin golems, as ungainly as they were grainy,managed to put up a half-decent offensive, striking together in an attempt to offset the women bodyguard. Of course, it was all for naught when the arrow struck the priest's chest.

"Damnit." Ariosto said glumly, watching from his plain spot hiding as the enchantments keeping the golems alight faded. Their goal, distract the warrior until the priest was taken care of, had been finished. "I need to start conjuring things that think for themselves beyond a point."

Meanwhile, the Kenshurans had realized how futile the current fight was, running off on their horses, tails tucked so far between their legs Ari wasn't suprised at Zoreg's accomplishment in catching up. His glasses shimmered, and he watched as a streak of magic tremored along the ground to the battlefield. He held up a hand, an arcane line traveling towards the magical message, returning a message along the leyline.

A few seconds later, a bolt of lightning arced across the sky. "So we're retreating for now. I best check up on Phillip while I still have free time."