The Battle for the Capital

[princeofskotos]

Who: Avshar and warriors from everywhere in the Empire
What: All the kingdoms of Dagaria gang up to tear Avshar down from the throne.
Where: Directly outside the Imperial City
Warnings: Violence, blood, death, etc


[The night before the final battle]

The various kingdoms of Dagaria have, for once, put aside their differences to march on the Capital and take down Avshar. The two armies are close enough that if you climb up a hill in the Dagarian Encampment, you can see the thousands of camp fires of Avshar's army in the distance. The nomads aren't letting you get any sleep either. Occasionally one of them will wheel his horse just out of bowshot range to shout insults or even to just give wordless shrieks of hate. Even more distracting, though, is the drums. Somehow their sound is traveling all the way here, in an endless one-two beat like the heart of a demented god. It may not be enough to distract hardened determined warriors of fame, but among common rank and file, tensions are high and men are nervous. It's also very difficult to sleep.

[The morning of the battle]

Contrasting the grim business of the day, the sun is out shining merrily, and there isn't a cloud in the sky. If anything, it looks like today is going to be uncomfortably warm.

The two armies are lined up. Avshar's forces formed in a mostly disorganized swarm, anchored on one flank by a series of forested hills that were difficult to get through, and by the ruin of a small fort that had a few archers and a large dart thrower stationed in it. The army is slightly larger than the forces arrayed against it, and there are various demonic creatures spaced throughout it, but overall it looks like the average quality of troop may be a bit lower than the opposition.

Avshar himself is leading from the very center of his army, beneath a large battle standard of Skotos' emblem. The Standard waved back and forth three times, and the army came to a halt. You can dimly hear Avshar's voice in the distance. He appears to be giving a speech to his men to raise morale right before the fight.

If any of you want to do the same thing or make any last minute confessions, now is the time to do it.

[The battle!]

Avshar's cavalry flowed towards the Dagarian army like a tide. As they got into bow range, the nomads abruptly turned aside in a huge confusing mess that none the less seemed controlled somehow. As they turned, they started firing arrows, emptying quivers as fast as they could into the Dagarian forces in a deadly hail of needle pointed arrows. Occasionally a band of Nomads would run closer to unleash a few heavier arrows that were more suited for piercing heavy armor. Thus was the battle style of the steppe nomads. Eventually arrows ran low and scimitars came out, flashing in the sun, as the nomads charged in for melee range. What their fighting lacked in military precision, it made up for in sheer ferocity.

Avshar himself stood at the back of the army for now, considering his options. He had some truly horrifying spells he knew, but if he devoted too much power to a single spell and it somehow failed, he might be in trouble. Eventually he nodded to himself, coming to a decision. Let it be something minor, for now. The Dagarians would surely see it as the forerunner of something greater and more terrible. It will make them nervous. He reached into his saddle bag and pulled out a tarot card. "For thine gifts, Skotos, I thank thee."

He crushed the card in one hand and started chanting. As he did, the card burned in a blue flame until nothing was left in his hand. An almost imperceptible wave of force spread across the entire battle, multiplying the power of any magician present. Avshar himself, at the card's focal point, was no exception.

Comments

The Night Before

[princeofskotos]

At the camp of the few remaining Zeon loyalists, one of the guards ran from the palisade to find an officer. He looking scared.

"Sir! Sir, Avshar is out beyond the palisade! He asked to speak to you by name!"

[infinitejustice]

Well, that left Athrun perplexed. What was the enemy commander doing out here, and looking to speak to him?

"...Did he say what he wants?"

[princeofskotos]

"Just that he had something for you, sir."

[The night before the final battle] Speech

[greyerrant]

Amongst the ranks of the Crusade company, and all the other warriors gathered for this battle, a figure armored in battered white plate, massive and stern in the moon and fire-light walks amongst them men, his presence perhaps reassuring, perhaps intimidating, but always imposing. He speaks at a few points, standing up on carts or small hillocks, always saying a variation of these words,

"I shall not tell you to know no fear, not this time. For we are facing a foe that is anathema to us. Run, if you must, but run home to your family, to your wives and daughters, to your farms. Run in your mind to these places so that your heart is strengthened for the day to come. Let them become the core of what guides you on into the heart of the battle that dawns on the morrow."

Loken points to the enemy lines, for a moment, "Look upon them, my friends, my brothers! See the corruption that has twisted them, the Daemons that walk amongst them. Know hate, and pity. Hate for the Daemons, that would destroy all that you love, and pity for those who have fallen to the taint. Let hate and pity both guide your blades, for both shall be needed in equal measure."

"These nomads, these gulled fools, we know them, and we have defeated them before. Kushana's troops on the border, the Crusade company.... we have all been tested and our mettle is proven. We know their strategies, their methods of war. We shall drive them from this battlefield and cast them down into utter ruin, that they might never threaten Dagaria again."

He halts for a moment, letting the moment build, then raises his blade to the sky, "I swear upon my blade that tomorrow we shall take Avshar's standard, and grind it into the dust. Who will stand with me?"

[idkworldruler]

Mitchell stared at the man from his spot with his own group. Both him and his men were getting antsy, they had just traveled and fought their way to get to where they were at the moment and were more than eager to get started. Some of them were already sleeping in with their weapons and uniforms on and ready. In fact he had already pledged that he would help the forces anyway. But despite this, he still decided to make a show of standing up from his spot.

"You already know where my men and I stand! We are at your command."

[greyerrant]

"Good. I shall have a special job for you tomorrow. The steppe tribes like to skirmish, but with your riflemen we can beat them at their own game. I want you in skirmish order in front of the crusade company Legionaires so we can break their harassing fire up before it takes a large toll. Just be ready to fall back on my command, I don't want your men getting caught in a close crunch, as lightly armored as they are. Kill quickly, kill well, and get the hell out to reload."

Re: [The night before the final battle] Speech

[puppy_lancer]

[Lancer raises his new spear to the sky alongside Garviel's blade.]

Sure.

[He grins.]

You sure know when to make a speech when it counts.

[greyerrant]

Do I? It needed to be done, is all.

[worshipisbad]

A little later, after the speech, a man in a red and blue overcoat trimmed with gold approached Garviel. He's what those who are with him refer to as a 'Commissar'. With a drawn sword, he offers a salute.

"Rousing speech, My Lord."

He awaits recognition but doesn't seek it.

[greyerrant]

Loken returns the salute with a closed fist against his chest, the old salute of Unity, and nods to the Commissar.

"Thank you, I seek only to strengthen the resolve of the soldiers before the fight. And you are...?"

[wanderingbard]

"Can't make anything easy for me."

Levin shakes his head in disapproval as he appears next to Garviel and pretends to read off a scrap of parchment.

"'Blah blah blah, daemons blah, justice, honor, for the blahpire.' That about right? We can set it to the tune of 'Twinkle, Twinkle Little Bat'."

He rolls it tightly up and sticks it in a pocket.

[Morning]

[greyerrant]

Garviel stands firm as the sun's first rays kiss his armor, casting him in a blazing, glorious golden halo for just a moment. He is in the vanguard of the Crusade Company, near his own banner. He waits for his friends and comrades to approach, to say their final goodbyes, and receive their final orders, of course. He has cast two cards into the flames of the morning cook-fire today. The Chariot and the Emperor. He says, briefly, almost to himself "In dedicato imperatum ultra articulo mortis.", in the old language of Belka, before facing his fellow warriors. It is almost time.

[idkworldruler]

The young man stood in front of his men's battle, standing off to the sides of Garviel's forces. Each one of the company's men stood at the ready, muskets in hand and blank determination in their eyes. At the moment Mitchell was extremely happy that he was able to recruit more men into his makeshift army. Sure they didn't look as grand as the ones next to them, but that's how he wanted it. It made them appear more gruff. They had already been battle tested and were far better trained from what they had originally been.

All he had been waiting for was the signal to start the march.

Re: [Morning]

[puppy_lancer]

Yo.

[Lancer decides to step up and give this Roman guy a greeting. After all, either one of them might not walk back alive from this battle.]

[Morning]

[revanisms]

Before anything could start, a horse came galloping up to Garviel, bearing a silver armored rider so covered in metal that even his face was behind a mask.

"Message from General Revan, sir."

His voice was deadpan and emotionless despite the rush to get there. That was either true professionalism or something else entirely.

[night before battle]

[devilsphysician]

Though it took him longer then most to fall under Avshar's control, once under Georik did all he could to further the Prince's cause. Bridges were destroyed or made to look like they're rigged to blow up. That would normally just slow the army down.

However, the doctor kneels down, dropping chloride into the water before dipping his gloved hand in - the one with the array. Murmuring in concentration he activated the reaction, turning the water into a river of hydrochloric acid, clear to the eye, but toxic to the touch and to breathe in. Quickly the doctor leaves the area.

[blackroselord]

As Georik leaves, he may catch an odd rattling sound drifting from the right. Or perhaps the glint of moonlight off a reflective surface that probably shouldn't be there. Did he carry off his plan entirely unnoticed?

[The battle!]

[greyerrant]

Loken's forces move forward in skirmish order, Mitchell's riflemen out in front in a loose line that will be firing 2 shots from their rifles to break up the incoming nomads. He's familiar with the Parthian Shot tactics of the nomads, having engaged them before and having sent a spy after them, so he already has his countermeasures planned. After the 2 shots from Mitchell's men, Loken bellows.

"Skirmishers, fall back! Crusade company legionaires, forward! Get those shields up and form a Turtle!"

[princeofskotos]

Dozens of nomads screamed and fell from their horses, or were crushed beneath their mounts as they were shot themselves. Yet the line of riflemen was not quite in as good order as it should have been.

Thousands and thousands of small biting flies, normally a minor nuisance of the battlefield, descended. A man in a pitched swordfight would be distracted at a key moment by a sudden bite on his neck or fly in his eye only to get skewered. A horse bitten in a sensitive spot would panic, leaving the rider too focused on controlling his mount to notice the enemy coming for his head. And somehow, the flies seemed to completely ignore the nomads in favor of their Dagarian foes.

[The Battle]

[smile_thatkills]

A sudden appearance through a funnel of air or the like. One figure suddenly stepped next to Ashvar.

"Heeeh?" Also at the back of the Skotos army was a smiling swordsman, observing the action with interest. He held a hand over his eyebrows and whistled.

[princeofskotos]

He barely seemed aware of Souji's presence, so focused was Avshar on the battle. Eventually he spoke, without taking his eyes off the chaos before him. "You cannot comprehend how long I have been awaiting this moment."

[The Battle]

[puppy_lancer]

[Finally. The nomads had stopped shooting those annoying arrows. It wasn't that they had any chance of hitting him so much as it was just annoying to try to deflect and dodge the arrows.]

[But now, fighting against the nomads and their scimitars, Lancer was having a lot of fun. He plunges into the enemy lines, holding off nomads on all sides.]

Come on! Show me a good time!

[xiao_lan_long]

From...somewhere in or around the British lines (she's already gotten a little lost...) a huge hulking armor rumbles into and mostly over the nomads, their normal metal swords not doing much to stop the Grungust's advance past Lancer's position.

"Out...out of the way!" An unintimidating but still effective command echoes out of the armor magically and scatters more of the cultists, leaving Kusuha to face a seriously unimpressed demon clawing its way nearer this big, impressive armor.

"Oh...th-that's not good" she says - not broadcasting that aloud, at least.

[The Battle]

[thirdtimesthechar]

(( Amuro, I'm hijacking your theme. You weren't using it anyway. ))

Avshar's nomads are a fearsome force. With their numbers and defensive position, the initial situation for the gathered armies of Dagaria looks highly questionable.

However, early in the afternoon, a new force suddenly appears - with no warning but shouted battle cries, two companies of Zeon cavalry, armored and armed with lances, sabers, bows, and pistols comes chargning out of the east. The new force, crashing directly into and through the disorganized lines of nomads and trampling the undisciplined fighters underfoot, flies the banner of none other than Zeon's royal guard, and at their head, somehow, is the prince, Char Aznable.

"Forward! Slaughter the cultists and the daemons and crush their bones into the field!" the prince shouts from the front, slicing down nomads left and right to make his point.

[princeofskotos]

In the rear of the army, Avshar cursed in rage when he saw who was leading this new force. "HOW!? HOW HOW HOW! I KILLED HIM!"