Journey's End: The Battle for the Isthmus

Journey's End: The Battle for the Isthmus Apr 2, 2009 22:54:49 GMT -6

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Post by Lord General Maahes Asad-Aziem on Apr 2, 2009 22:54:49 GMT -6

Lord General Maahes:     Dawn had come: clear and simple over the misty morning the sun rose in bright reds and gold. Somewhere Maahes was sure God knew about the blood to be spilt upon his land, but did he mean for it to be his enemy or his own? In the the distance the shadow of an army moved--men by the thousands. Harsh, battle worn English that turned his stomach, and chilled his bones. They wanted this land, they wanted the Duke, wanted the Duchess, and wanted all of Scotland to die. This, was what got an animal ready for battle. Anger motivated him, and though the morning was perfectly still and silent he could hear his heart pounding under his armor as they waited. All through his veins he felt his blood boil, and the rage sat in. On the horizon ships armed with heavy firearms waited to pound the English, and like vultures in the trees the Ranger's waited. Upon the hills, many weeks had been spent setting up 'primitive' yet effective ways of flattening men. Large rocks perfectly smoothed into heavy boulders begged to be released behind ropes that cried with the weight. Get in..get their weapons..Not all could be stopped, that would only be a work from God, but it was up to this army now to lighten the force. (d

Ben:     Itseemed the rain would never end for Ben Wittibaker. Having fought countless small battles before this moment, he was already worn down and tired. Still he held his hand above the sword handle, feeling the rain still making his clothing stick to his form, he felt anything but pleasant. Why did they want this God forsaken land any way? Most of it was cliffs and rocks..pretty for a woman to look at it seemed. Maybe it was his own bitterness boiling up inside of his chest at the very thought of it. Looking to his brothers-in-arms, he started to really question, why the f**k he was here? It happened after some time of fighting for things you were told to fight for and not what you believed in. He jsut wanted to go back home.

Danae and the Rangers:     Danae, her brother Ren, Merick and Balian lead a troop of rangers that were more than just prepared to fight. They were ready to take down their enemy at all costs, willing to sacrifice anything of themselves to see the English drop like flies. As they all positioned themselves within the high and sturdy limbs of the trees, countless quivers were filled with numerous arrows of all colors and lengths. The rain continued to fall and though Danae would have much prefered better weather than this, the hell if it was going to keep her for meeting a set quota of bodies for this battle. Ren on the other hand was anchored in a nearby with Balian while Merick stayed by his Commander's side. All were quiet for now as calls in the disguises of birds and animals were made to signal different things of the English men that were coming. The Greek warrior female.. her eyes sharp, ears keen and ready to let Kaelyn and her men know the positions of the enemy soon. -d-

Devon Wickham:     He left his warm bed, his wife's lovely legs, for this? For this island? The commander had gone absolutely mad! Sod them all, that was what Devon said, though he merely thought it. Still, he knew enough of the men and they all had similar or near thoughts! Rain, rain, rain! They had enough of rain in England! They could barely contain the Scots, how the hell did Maubrey expect to keep this land? Pompous swine! Grumbling, he gripped his halberd close, the leather gloves wet just like the rest of his armoured body. Cold and wet, and he would make every last one of these sons of dairy cows pay for dragging him so far away from his own and family! But then again, the army paid well, even sent some coins home to his pretty mum. Muddy, muddy muck! Crusing softly, Devon Wickham followed in line with the rest of his company, water was falling down on their heads and surrounding them. What a bloody mess Maubrey had gotten them all into.

Adam Duke of Skye:     some 450 kilometers away from Turas Lan, at the Battle of Galashiels in Scotland, the large arrows of the English ballistas whistling thru the air… its destination, those trebuchets behind Gryphon lines… its intent, to destroy them long before those weapons could hurl death back at them… The wind flew the banners of the Red Bull near a commander as he raised his arm… "signal the archers…" he yelled… and signal flags waved back and forth… men with bows stepped forward and in consequential commands, aimed, and fired… the sky darkened with the arrows in flight… On the opposite side of the field, the command and sequenced actions were the same… the umbrella of death lurching toward the opponent… Lines of men, the infantry of both armies, move forward to the horns and drums… Spears leveled for a charge, both lines at the double-quick… The result? Men screaming, horse whining, in pain as the arrows found targets… Just as men fell, others moved up to reform the lines… Sergeants stood before the lines of soldiers, walking backwards, to keep the lines abreast… To the flanks of the large formation, the two cavalries suddenly clashed in an unexpected melee of men and horse, swords swinging, men screaming"Prepare the buchets…" the Celt commander ordered… "Fire when ready…" came his subsequent command seconds later… Balls of fire, stone, or metal… whatever could be launched, were hurled at the advancing lines… The tool dealt out death and dismemberment with every shot of a ballista or trebuchet.The mayhem in the middle thickened as the two lines, charging at one another, exploded into a resounding clash of steel, screams, and blood. Adam sat upon the white stallion next to the banner of the Gryphon, surrounded by generals who sounded out commands… (d)

Norseman Brom:     "Remember well what the Guardian said," The Norsemen leaned against the base of a tree, no real protection from the rain but if one sought shelter here it'd be useless. His posistion was neither one of comfort not grandeur. It guaranteed him no safety, in fact it bid him take oath that he would lay down his life in the fleeting instant for those he was given to task. "Bring our court home." At twenty-six, Brom's star had begun to take a tedious, haphazard rise as the trust of Kendrew in him grew. With the Mo'r Oskuil gone to Edinburgh his focus was made to broaden. Quietly, he thumbed the white feathers on the talon's pin that he wound on a leather chord, tucking it beneath the shirt, thus underneath the breast plate. If the court fell, so fell they all. "You will guard the General, you, see you the Marshalls,any of them, that will be your task..." He assigned each member and their closest companion a guard so silent that their presence would not be unknown unless it was called for. Until they then were knights among the ranks. That in was the purpose of the Order, and it was fufilling it's oath these seasonsn to terrible coasts. A great many of them were already dead (d)

Lady Ealora Asad-Aziem:     Dawn would present itself bright and early and while it was an omen of what was to come to Maahes. It was simply the dawn of another day in others eyes, except his wife who refused to leave his side however much that urked him. Their children were safe with Nora and while she did not command his men herself, she was not far behind him in readying for what was to come. For some, the reasons for war were long stretched out, tiring. Still, there was fight enough left in the men and women who crowded around amidst the roar of the English. Each pawn set in place, by sea, by land, by tree...by hill. Anger motivated her husband, others were motivated by other means and yet the ex pirate, the soon to be ex captain was motivated by will, by the outcome that most prayed for. Peace. With this battle, it was one step closer to the ultimate goal, freedom to many, to her, peace. Black armor gleamed, it had been a while since she had worn it but the meaning no less clear. Thin their army, no mercy, no remorse. All for the greater good tomorrow.*

Lord William and Men:     Lord William had arrived at the Isthmus days before, knowing his Generals would crush the Scots and Aberdeen's invasion force. He and his men had surveyed the road and found that it was not as reported. Not to be daunted by that small effort, he orders his generals to form lines of march... Cavalry... infantry... seige weapons, and more infantry... then cannon, then more infantry... supply trains, then his cavalry.... 25,000 men all together... each one trained minimally as a swordsman... It was this army that he decided to move on Turas Lan... One chance to crush the Aberdeens and his Griffin Army...But on this day, he had received word that the war in Scotland was not going well...and this fueled his fire in the belley for Adam's demise... To have the Bull annihilate the Gryphon on his own ground...Thru the muck and mud, the army of 25,000 men and machines entered the narrow, muddy road of Broadford... Moving north along the road the line of William's army was strung out, hardly 4 men abreast... trebuchets barely stayed on the road... In the rear, cannon were being abandoned... their wheels and carriage stuck in mud to their crude axles...William cursed the rain, as he looked to the dull grey skies... "Come on lads... strike up the pace... Victory awaits us..." as he begins to cheers his men onward... <d>

Lord General Maahes:     Through the eye of a looking glass he had never traveled, but how wonderful it was for his sight. A great invention, but always did the sight make him grin. "They move." Turning then to the men who waited, the trees that baited, and the lives that were fated--this was it. "Aim high, start with the biggest to the small. Take down those weapons, save the ants for me." His hand would raise to signal the men on, and for the flag to fly. Upon the tallest hill fabric of black would raise in three quick pumps, it would be lost again. From the sea, canon's would be aimed, Siege weapons first..Maahes would then start of on the trek across muck and sea water for the canon's being left. Great additions to Skye these 'forgotten' fire arms, and his men would then be quick to trap the escape. Silently..quietly through the fog they moved coming up upon the rear of the army, they would not be able to fall back. Force them into the hills, fight them to their doom. Once again, the flag would fly and breaking the silence the boom of battle would begin. Canon upon canon fired then from ships moving like ghosts in the darkness, a haunting sight, and a sudden death. (d

Ben:     At the sound of Maubrey's voice, Ben picked up his pace and moved closer to one of the machines to press both hands upon it, feeling the wooden texture. Pushing, he made sure to put his back into it, moving it along the mud with the strength of other men. He had not had a decent bath in some time, but who would realyl care about that? Only he would. Others grumbled sometimes, openingly and all he wanted to do was wrap his hands around their necks and choke the life from them one by one. It was while he was lost in these thoughts, that the booming sound of canons were heard, making some men scramble and others push harder to try and get into position. Ben followed in tow, pushing the large machine about to get it in the right position, praying a cannon did not hit him.

Danae and the Rangers:     Danae was sqautting low on one of the many tree branches, her hand braced against the trunk while bow and the first of three arrows were held in the other. Her icy cold eyes of blue peered out across the drenched land below and beyond. Merick on the next branch over while Ren and Balian were in the next tree. All with weapons in hands. As she saw the movement of men getting in position, another sound was made like that of a falcon screeching in the dark.Within moments, the sound of a cannon's boom echoed and rolled over the lands. She stood tall, and yelled. "Show them no mercy... for you shall receive none!" A pause was made as she notched her first arrow and others followed her lead. "Rangers Ready!" Ren glanced over to see his sister in her commanding position and smirked. He mumbled to himself. "Show off... and then followed her exmaple in preparing for battle. -d-

Adam Duke of Skye:     As the battle raged on, Adam could see units from various countries of the alliance; each promise kept. This fight was not just Scotsmen but men of various nations; differing cultures; all fighting for one thing - Freedom. It was then that he pointed as the lines seemed to buckle in the middle… The general gave the command to "envelope", and signal flags waved to and fro… a third and fourth line of infantry formed on the flanks to meet the next line of Englishmen… then the flanks of the first and second griffin lines bent inwards, like a shape of a bull's head and horns… nearly enveloping the enemy… it was coordinated to suck in the English, and close around them…The general then glanced to Lord Aberdeen and then looked to the Master Archer… "ARCHERS…" he resounded… The Master Archer screamed..."READY…. AIMMM…. LOOSE…" then a volley of arrows streamed toward the English lines…(d)

Lady Ealora Asad-Aziem:     From Maahes side, she watched. It was a different view then what she was used to and even in this moment, she marveled at how her husbands mind worked. Placing the pawns just so for the strike. As he called that they were moving, she saw the game insue. Her helmet snapped into place, hiding the fact that the 'knight' who wore the armor was in fact a woman. A black gloved hand snapped the helmet securely in place. Behind the veil, this was indeed different, the mass between her feet did not pitch and yet the Shadow Storm was amongst those upon the seas, ready to ambush with her first in charge in her stead. The ground was solid beneath her feet, yes this was a different situation for her, a different battle ground of which she had never been, but the will was not lost, it was still the same and she would dutifully fight for Skye and its people, for her husband, for her family.*

Lord William and Men:     The men waded thru mud over their feet... sometimes stepping to their knees... Even the cavalry had a difficult time, the steeds almost hopping thru the muddy roads... When men and horse took a higher route, it too soon became as the roads, but adding more of a mud slide... With their delimma, the movements on the sides of the hills and the ships coming thru the straits we lost... unseen by any... Scouts of the march had far outreached the main line and useless... Then the faint thump thump of cannon fire would be lost on the screams of the men and horse being bogged down in the mud... "Onward men... push hard... do not let the Griffin win... we have only begun... It was then that the cannon balls found targets... the explosions sending men and machine flying, broken into shards of wood and blood... Up ahead, William saw trebuchets explode... "What the....?" he pulled his glass extending and looking toward the sea... "Turn the cannon... fire at those ships..." But just as the men managed to get the remaining cannon turned, before they could load it, another shell from the ships exploded among them, destroying the cannon...William pushed his general... "Get the men in the hills... save what ya can..." then he rode up the road, taking a higher ground for faster movement... Arriving at the from portion, he countermands his generals... "Get the cavalry and these troops moving, yer killing the men at the rear.... now get MOVING... Get this army to TURAS LAN.,.." then he started to ride with the cavalry out ahead of the long single filed formations... Meanwhile, at the middle of the formation, the infantry were dodging arrows from the heights... assembling their archers with an attempt to fire up at the attackers...<d>

Lord General Maahes:     Once the line of threes broke, the hills were there to great the English with loving arms. The fire of the canon's the cries of the battle could fall away with ease with the still singing birds in the wooded area. The stories of the battle there had been legendary, one of the first attempts upon Skye..They thought they had been ready. The army here didn't work like this..they didn't come from behind did they? Now leaving a clean line towards the city?? Surely not. When the men moved in all the sounds would fall away, a wind there eerie and cold. Voices raised upon the back of the breeze, was it their warning? Their fallen friends begging for them to leave?? No..it was the sound then of thunder rolling down the hills. Rocks--massive rocks--bone crushing rocks, all tumbling like the sweat down their brow. They had better move fast if they want through, but would Mauberry be so cruel and just leave his wounded? Back upon the front swords sang out in songs of lives lost, but with every English slain his blade would scream, 'You picked the wrong Isle'...bytches. (d

Ben:     The screams had Ben turning around to see a fast moving black blur zoom by him and crash into the other machine not but a few feet from his own. Wood splinters went everywhere, making men duck and run around to the other end. Ben ducked down, cursing out as a splinter smacked the side of his arm, making it sting from the shoulder down to the fingers. he tried to shake it off and help move the machine around, kicking and cursing at the contraption. Pushing another man out of the way with hand, he took the contraption and set it up before firing it so that it retorted towards the ships. The sound of the earth rumbling under him made his head snap to the left. Rocks came tumbling down, crushing men under their weight. ``MOVE OR DIE!``

Danae and the Rangers:     On her signal, the rain of arrows were released. Each and every ranger that was under the commands of Danae and Kaelyn notched arrow after arrow. Aiming high, letting gravity work with them and bringing those wooden leaded weapons down with an almost unthinkable force. A force that would ultimately peirce shields, helmets, armour and definately any un protected body part of the enemy. It was as if the Greek Gods themseleves were backing this force up and taking down the men that threatened to take from others, that did not and would not ever belong to them. "Fire At Will!" She yelled as the flood of arrows looked as if it would not be letting up anytime soon. -d-

Devon Wickham:     The man beside him suddenly jerked backward, his feet flying up in the air as the air pierced the socket of his eye. Devon's eyes widened and he swallowed hard. Maubrey was leading them into a bloody massacre! It was hard to hear his own thoughts as the cannons exploded and the whistling of arrows downing the men around him. Reaching down, he claimed a shield from a fallen soldier, the dead didn't need defending from arrows! Lifting it, he held it over his head and slightly in front of his face. Arrows bounced off, some even lodged themselves into the shield. ``BLOODY 'ELL! MY LEG!`` He shouted as an arrow dug itself into flesh and muscle of his leg. He couldn't stop and snap the end without forsaking the shield or his halberd. Fok! With a savage cry--partly to lift his own morale, he pushed forward. The ground was slick, and it was hard to keep your footing. Cursing under his breath, he grimaced and pushed on, butting a soldier in front of him in the back. ``GET YE ARSE GOING YOU DAFT TWIT! I'LL NOT BE DYIN' HERE BECAUSE OF YOU!`` He shouted over the raging battle.

Adam Duke of Skye:     For three days, the momentum of battle shifted from side to side, with the quick reaction of valiant men changing the tide of war. Tens of thousands lost their lives in those three days. The ground of Scotland soaked red with the blood of both sides. Breaks in the violence of battle would last only long enough for one side to gain an advantage, then rekindle the attack.Once again, Lord Aberdeen sat upon the white horse, advising the generals and watching his army strike at the very heart of the enemy. Finally, his support had arrived and he ordered it emplacement. Once he saw its complement ready, he moved toward them. Adam spurred his horse and rode to the left flank, far behind friendly lines… "Loose the cannon… on the trebuchets… then troops…" he called from his steed. The commander saluted… then turned to his crews… "Prime and Load…" he barked orders… "Aim… elevation 500…" the men then lifted the end of the cannon and put in a wooden block… "FIRE !!!"… the cannon erupted in smoke and fire, as it belched out a 20 pound ball of steel…. The first round missed its target and the men quickly reloaded, adjusted the aim according to the engineer, and fired again… this time, the round struck the enemy trebuchet, blowing off the top half and tilting it on its side… Time and time again the men fired the cannon… first firing at trebuchets, then at the cavalry, then at the formations of men…(d)

Lady Ealora Asad-Aziem:     Time raged on and seemed yet to stand still. A body was pushed to its limits. Some bodies fell under severe torture of an ongoing fight. Perhaps it was their wills were not as strong as others. Perhaps they were less prepared, less equipped, not well enough trained. The reasons could go on into eternity but all that mattered were the bodies that fell were not their men. It was envietable. Some of theirs would fall but the ultimate goal was plain, thin the English. Swords sang out a raspid and erie tune. Men screamed in rage and pain before falling to defeat and the black knight as it was, pressed on, was she tired? Absurdly, would she yeild? Absolutely not.*

Lord William and Men:     Men in the middle screamed and tried to run in panic, but where could they run..into the Sea? Some would dodge the large boulders, many would be crushed under the weight... trebuchets would tumble sideways from the impacts of enormous rock... Arrows? Boulders? Not natural occurances... they were ambushed... in mud to their shins, the men tried to find protective coverings...All around were men dying and machines broken or bogged down... The Generals and Captains began to surge their men up the hills... "Fight for yer lives... fight for the King... slay these scot dogs..." and men, despite adversaties such as they were in, dutifully ran uphill... Swords swung, metal clashes rang out in the valley as men, fighting for their very existance came upon a force from the hills that they had never expected... Surely outnumbering them four to one, the English would win... but were they truly outnumbering their foe? Had the boulders and cannon fire and arrow barrages dampened their spirit? Nay... the English fought well...and were dying well... At the front, Maubrey was leading his army toward Turas Lan... Unawares of the massacre behind him, he and some 2000 plus men, and one trebuchet made their way up the road... They had a long road ahead of them... and the rain had not ceased yet.<d>

Lord General Maahes:     Blood now stained the lands, a perfect contrast and compliment to the rich green. All men, struggled on lives pushing forward to save those they loved. This battle was over, his job had been done..but the war had just begun. In the distance he could see the men escape, a handful compared to what was there. It would be now he would leave his prayers to Eamonn and those who were in the city. "General..what now?" "Push through these men, take every canon, sword.. and arrow that can be mended, set them to return to the city. Get the fastest horses..get them to the front there. We have done our best here." He spoke through the fight, a grin to the man even with the face of death all around. (d

Ben:     God damn all of them! The machine fired, but if it got it's target, he was not sure. What did he care as he moved from the machine while other took it over. Boot covered picked up and went pounding over the mud, trying to catch up to the other group of men that was heading towards the city. Men were left behind, but ben was no general, no sargant, he was simply a soldier and as a soldier, he would run for it and try to remain with the winning group. He could hear the sound of the machine that was left behind, as it exploded from being hit by a cannon. Men screamed, he looked back and stumbled, though caught himself before he hit the ground. Damn!

Devon Wickham:     Tossing the shield to the ground, the halberd was gripped in both hands now, and with the wooden pole gripped in wet gloved hands, he lowered it and impaled a man of Skye. He screamed, but Devon did not care. Right now, he was wishing and praying he could jsut go home! Yanking the halberd from the man's middle, the axe blade was brought down and forced the body to the ground. Ha! If he could survive this night, all would be well...or so he thought. Suddenly, his eyes widen as he felt somehing sharp go through him from behind. Looking down, the bloody tip of the sword gleamed brightly as it portruded from his chest. He cried out, falling down to his knees. However, with a lastsummoned strength, the halberd was whipped around and the blade dug into the man's boot, blood spewing from the wound like a volcano. The blade that had been thrust through his middle felt lighter as the man cried out as well, and Devon took that moment to get to his feet, knees shaking and quivering violently. Fingers recurled around the handle of the halberd and he turned around, the sword still sticking through his body like some horrible pin. With a fierce cry, the colour draining from his face, Devon swung the halberd and with a single stroke, the head went rolling. Unfortunately, the energy it took to make that mighty blow costed him and he fell to his knees again. ``Damn you all....`` He spat out, crimson liquid dripping from his mouth as he stared up at the soldier running his way. ``...I'll be waiting for you...Margret..`` Devon mumbled, before closing his eyes and welcoming the second sword brought down between collarbone and shoulder, ending his torment.

Adam Duke of Skye:     By the eve of the sixth day, a white flag, mounted on a broken lance, was carried down into the valley amongst the dead and wounded. Adam rode down into the valley to meet the flag and its carrier. Not far behind Adam, was an entourage of generals and Gold Talons… The man upon the horse, carrying a white flag spoke, his voice barely audible… his clothes stained red… The man held the white flag high as he slid from his steed and knelt down before Lord Adam and his men… "MiLord… I would appreciate you accepting the surrender of the remnants of the King's army. All the commanders are dead… our logistics are spent… and all we have left is a rag-muffin of an army.The will and ardor of battle is spent… victory is impossible… and we submit ourselves at yer mercy…" Adam and his generals invite the remaining English leaders to a tent within the Gryphon compound… It was there that a mere lieutenant signed over the remaining 6,000 men contingent of a 75,000 man English army. Five days later, Adam and his generals had made plans for an invasion into the heart of England… Knowing the war could continue for months, Adam was resolved that the English was beaten and that a Griffin force of 90,000 men would eventually be stationed where they could maintain control of each and every city. The invasion of England, and the last stage of the unifying the Gaelic Nations had begun. Leaving his command to his senior field commander, Adam and his Gold Talons rode north and west across Scotland toward Skye...their destination - Turas Lan…. (d)

Post by Lord General Maahes Asad-Aziem on Mar 31, 2009 13:14:04 GMT -6

Post by Lord General Maahes Asad-Aziem on Apr 2, 2009 22:54:49 GMT -6