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 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."

[idkworldruler]

"Sounds good to me. We will crush them before they will even reach us." He replied, it wasn't going to be all that hard for them to pull off, and his rifles have already proven to be more than a match for most other units that they had engaged. Making such opponants easy targets for them to deal with.

[greyerrant]

"Just worry about thinning their numbers. If you try to crush them you'll get overexposed and take too many casualties. Leave that to the men with shields and armor. Kill as many as you can, and get out."

[idkworldruler]

"Very well." He said before sitting down, and leaving it at that.

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.

[puppy_lancer]

Better than I could have done, anyway.

[Lancer isn't one for fancy speeches before battle.]

Or maybe it's just because you're a Roman. I hear they can sell you the clothes off your own back with their silver tongues.

[greyerrant]

[ Loken barks a short, bitter laugh in response to Lancer's compliment. Not dismissing it.... just finding it amusing, given his true origin. ]

[puppy_lancer]

[He grins.]

Never thought I'd hear that from a guy like you. Guess you're not as intimidating as you try to look.

[greyerrant]

You are right. I'm worse.

[puppy_lancer]

[He snickers.]

And here you are developing a sense of humor too.

[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...?"

[worshipisbad]

"Commissar Abaan, my lord." Yes, after the salute, he uses his hands to flash the Imperial Aquila.

"I've come to report that the armies of man have arrived and stand ready to serve you and the God-Emperor. They may be poorly equipped but they will do their duty. I can assure you of that. There is a quality in quantity."

[greyerrant]

Loken notices the Aguila. And then he hears the words God-Emperor, his eyes narrowing, and looks down at the commissar, taking a step towards him, unconsciously menacing.

"Who is this God-Emperor you speak of?"

[worshipisbad]

He moves not an inch. Whatever his fate, it is what the Emperor would have wanted. His faith is his shield.

"The God-Emperor of Mankind. The Emperor who ruled the known world and was betrayed by his own sons."

[greyerrant]

Loken scowls, pulling his helmet from his belt and sliding it over his head. "You and I shall have words after this battle is done, Commissar. There are matters theological which I'll need to discuss, and possibly correct you about. BUt for the moment, we've a False Emperor to cast down, and Daemons to slay. See to your men, and shelter behind the Crusade company until the final crunch. I would not see them sell their lives cheaply."

[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.

[greyerrant]

"I was unaware I was supposed to be making things easy for anyone."

He looks momentarily confused, then says to Levin, "MOre importantly, what are you doing here?"

[wanderingbard]

"Fighting. Why? What're you doing here? Just makin' speeches?" Levin smiles his usual cheeky smile.

[greyerrant]

"My duty, of course. There are daemons and corrupt out there, and I am sworn to slay them. So here I am. And here you are. Try not to get killed, I'd be most put out."

[wanderingbard]

"Think I'd be a little more put out than you, but sure. I'll do my best, cap'n." Levin glances out towards the campfires of the enemy.

"Where do ya think he even dug 'em all up?"

[greyerrant]

"Would that I knew, I'd find the source and cut his access off at the source." He looks to the nomads for a moment, "His human followers, at least, are mostly from the outlands. Pony-people, specializing in mounted archery. I've fought them before and sent a spy after their information."