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Post by Clair Feldsky on Oct 9, 2009 10:11:50 GMT -6
Clair was surprised when he managed to evade her leg strike so easily. She hadn't really expected it to do more than distract him, but it hadn't even caused him to miss a beat. Clair was starting to realize that this man was quite above her skill level.
She listened as he gave a brief bit of instruction, following his advice and taking a deep breath. Her movements were too disjointed to be effective against an experienced opponent like him. She needed to move more fluidly, and she would only do that by ignoring distractions and focusing. Taking another deep breath, she made a conscious effort to put aside the insecurity of training with real weapons. There was a change in how she moved to counter Richter's strike. Not an enormous change, but just enough to make a difference.
As Richter came in with his strike, Clair smoothly swept the tipped end of the lance around from her right. Sword and spear crossed for a moment before she brought the blunt end of the spear up, attempting ,with limited success, to knock her opponent's blade skyward.
With his weapon sufficiently out of the way, Clair was able to thrust the blunt end of the spear towards Richter's chest.
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Post by Richter Abend on Oct 9, 2009 19:21:51 GMT -6
Slightly surprised at Clair's quick adaptation to his advice as well as the improvement it created, Richter wasn't expecting such a fluid parry. His sword connected with Clair's spear, and she managed to knock his arm away. Before Richter could bring his sword back in to defend, Clair thrust the butt of her lance at him. Almost managing to duck away from the strike, he felt the shaft connect with his shoulder, knocking him off balance.
Taking a step back, Richter brought himself back together, resuming a composed stance. She showed visible improvement in one spar. Exciting. In one final gauging of her skills, Richter calmly sheathed his sword, then ducked forward and made a quick lunge towards Clair, holding his weapon near his chest. Getting close to her, he quickly swung the sheathed blade upwards.
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Post by Clair Feldsky on Oct 10, 2009 14:42:09 GMT -6
She had managed to score a hit; that was the first step to winning the match. Glad she had managed to put some of Irrenica's training to use, Clair prepped herself to press the attack.
As she stepped in with a horizontal strike at chest level, the memory of her early training broke her concentration on the fight. Her newfound focus wavered and scattered, though she didn't have time to notice this. Apparently, she would need to work on learning to maintain focus.
As she swung her weapon, Richter lunged forward, underneath her strike. Bringing his weapon up with precision, he landed a good, solid, blow on her midriff section. Clair was knocked back, falling to the ground because her stance had not been stable enough as she stepped in.
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Post by Richter Abend on Oct 11, 2009 0:14:56 GMT -6
Wiping his brow, Richter attached his sword back to his belt and strode over to Clair. Bending over slightly, he offered her a hand. "Are you alright? That was quite a blow," he asked with mild concern. "If I hadn't sheathed my sword first, that would have been an unfortunate mess."
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Post by Clair Feldsky on Oct 11, 2009 10:33:33 GMT -6
Clair took a few moments to recover her breath when it became obvious that they were done sparring for the moment. The strike had knocked the breath out of her, but there would be little more than a sore bruise left there. A more permanent result of the spar was the beginning of the development of a battle mindset. Clair knew that something had changed. She was determined to master the concentration necessary to improve.
She nodded her head in response to his question. "That was... a good... match.... You got me good there." She said reaching up to take his hand.
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Post by Richter Abend on Oct 11, 2009 11:25:58 GMT -6
Richter lifted Clair to her feet and smirked. "Well, what did you expect?" he asked coolly, his ego kicking in. "I mean, I am your commander after all. If I can't beat you in a sparring match, I hardly deserve the position."
Turning to the rest of the men, Richter straightened up. "Attention!" he barked. The men stopped sparring and looked at Richter, some of them assuming the appropriate posture. "We're done for today. Everyone return to your duties. We will resume at the same time tomorrow morning." Putting his hand up to his brow, Richter saluted the men. The soldiers did the same and slowly strolled out of the training ground.
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Post by Kraft on Oct 13, 2009 2:33:45 GMT -6
Somewhere in the afternoon a man came riding towards the fort. His horse was foaming, the eyes wild. Non-stop he kept beating the poor animal and the small streams of blood running down from the back of the animal showed that he had been doing it for quite a while. The guards recognized the man as one of the bodyguards of a missionary. The gate was opened with the District-Head's approval, who knew that this meant bad news.
Exhausted, the man fell from his horse. After water and food was brought, he told his horrible tale. The missionary had been killed. Most of the bodyguards had been killed. Only two of them had been able to escape, but his partner's horse had collapsed and he had broken his neck. He had seen the doom of the fort. None would be saved. 9 Sacean tribes had united against the Etrurian fort. They outnumbered us 5 to 1 and they had ladders, bows, ropes. They would be here by the evening. He had seen the vast masses of their army. They had approached the missionary with war-paint on their faces, the idols of their gods on stakes and flags which depicted unspeakable acts of terror. One of the villages they had succeeded in converting had already been burned to the ground. Luckily the Saceans had stopped to do that or otherwise he wouldn't been here to warn them. Before fainting he exclaimed with wild rolling eyes: "Doom! Doom approaches! RUN, fools, RUN!"
The District-Head informed Richter shortly after that and told him that fleeing wasn't an option. Besides, the Sacaens would run us down in the fields. They had make a stand. There was hope, however. If they could survive for a couple of days, the Etrurian Reinforcements might be just in time. Until then. . . They'll have to fight for their lives.
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Post by Richter Abend on Oct 13, 2009 20:46:17 GMT -6
Taciturn, Richter nodded towards the District-Head. Perhaps this would be Richter's chance to prove his superiority. He turned towards the soldiers who had come to witness the spectacle. A fire in his eyes, he commanded them. "Alright then men, listen up!" he shouted. "The Sacaen hordes will be here in a matter of hours, and they will be here to kill you!" The men, wide-eyed and fearful, turned and muttered to each other. "Shut up!" barked Richter with a viciousness that surprised even himself. "You can't run, you can't hide, so ff you don't want to die like the dogs that you are, you're going to have to listen to my orders." The soldiers, while a bit panicked, straightened up and paid attention for the most part. "Alright, I want the men up on the battlements to prepare whatever it is that'll be useful against these Sacaens. Burning tar, rocks, hell, even water if it'll slow them down." Many of the soldiers saluted and ran for the battlements. "The rest of you, get your weapons, get your armor, and brace yourselves. We're outnumbered 5 to 1, so I doubt we'll be able to hold these wooden walls forever. I want bowmen up on the walls, spearmen behind the gates, one third of the swordsman up on the walls defending the archers, and the rest of the swordsmen waiting in the commons." The rest of the soldiers saluted and ran off to their duties. Hurriedly, Richter swiveled towards Clair.
"I want you to scout out the enemy. Tell me what they have, how many commanders there are, and how organized they look," Richter commanded sternly. "You have wings, so I expect you to get there and back with some time for me to adapt. Go!"
Richter turned back to the District-Head. "Sir, I advise you go wait in the church with the other civilians. I'll send a group of soldiers to guard you."
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Post by Kraft on Oct 14, 2009 1:04:08 GMT -6
The District-Head nodded.
"I told you, Richter, that the Sacaens would turn on us? What did we do to deserve this? Nothing! If peace-offerings and Truth provoke such actions. . . then in what kind of world we live in? Destroy them, Richter. I shall tell the monks to stand by to heal fallen soldiers. Bring wounded men to the church. Oh, and Richter, may Elimine and the Prophet protect you."
He then hurried off, rallying the civilians, monks and priest into the church. Not shortly after that the bell sounded and a wonderful song erupted from the church's open doors. No heathens will break the morale of an Etrurian.
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Post by Clair Feldsky on Oct 14, 2009 11:11:22 GMT -6
Clair was impressed with how quickly he set things into motion. For being so new to the army stationed here, he certainly had their attention now. She saw him swivel to face her and straightened.
She got her orders to scout the enemy's disposition and get back on-the-quick.
Before leaving, she snapped a quick salute. "Like the wind."
She rushed over to where Corona stood, still harnessed from earlier, and slipped her lance into the weapon rack on the saddle. Climbing aboard the great, winged horse, she prompted him into taking strides to take off. Within a few short moments Clair was in the skies, being carried on the back of the wind.
After She had flown for nearly an hour, Clair spotted an enormous cloud of smoke rising from the plains. After a few more minutes, she was able to identify the still burning ruins of a town. She didn't get close enough for them to open fire on her, as they surely would on any non-sacaen right now, but she was able to notice many battle flags. She also saw that the majority of the 500+ soldiers seemed to be performing aimless destruction. Only a single battle group seemed to be well organized. She turned away, and started back to the fort..
"These people love destruction. They must, or they wouldn't bring so much on a simple village." Clair thought to herself. She was angry at the death these Sacaen dogs were working. "The Prophet and his faithful will cleanse the land of these people. Someday there will be peace for all."
She arrived back at the fort and was glad to see so much preparation completed. The travel she could do in one hour, they would be able to manage quick enough. They would be here before dark if they wanted to.
"Clair Feldsky, reporting in Sir." she said once she got back, and found the Region Officer.
They went aside as she started into her report grimacing a little at the numbers stacked against them.
"There appear to be 500 to 600 hundred fighters consisting of equal parts bowman and swords. They were toting tools to scale the walls." A pause for breath, "There were many standards held up -I'd say around 30. Most of the fighters seemed fairly chaotic, but there was a core of about 50 that looked like they knew what they were doing...My assessment would be that the many banners mean their leadership is disjointed, each group can't have more than a handful of men. Also, They burnt the town down. If we can destroy their ladders, they won't be able to build more. My biggest worry is that they seem to like to use fire." She had been taught to be observant in Illia.
Clair awaited her Commander's orders.
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Post by Richter Abend on Oct 14, 2009 17:09:33 GMT -6
Richter paused, rubbing his beard. "Disjointed leadership may mean less unified efforts, but it also means we can't just take out a few leaders and disperse their force," he observed contemplatively. This was all very confusing. Richter had been to Sacae a few times before this, but he'd never known Sacaens to be this violent. What was the reason for their bloodlust? Well, this was no time to be thinking such thoughts.
"Alright then, I'll take that assessment to heart. Destroying the ladders will be the main priority. Go spread that among the battlements," said Richter with a dismissive wave, then stopped. "Wait, before you go, describe the banner of this organized core unit."
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Post by Clair Feldsky on Oct 15, 2009 12:07:57 GMT -6
Clair thought back, trying to remember the design. "I wasn't able to get close enough to see it clearly, sir, but I believe it was a wolf standing over a Rising Sun." She saluted as she went to carry out her orders. This bloodthirsty army must've chosen that symbol to mock the Prophet's own design. She didn't know much about the Prophet, or even his achievements, but she believed in the message his missionaries spread. Peace. Now they were being forced to fight for that peace. Clair was ready. It was a good cause....It hadn't truly sunk in just how many enemies they were facing.
She put Corona down in the enclosed courtyard of the fort before beginning to help wherever she could. Dragging weapons, stones, fire wood, and urns of cooking grease to the tops of the walls. Water was brought up for the soldiers and to douse the flames should any catch to the walls.
As Clair helped, she spread the news to "destroy the ladders". Most of the soldiers acted like this was common knowledge, or retorted angrily, but as they saw her helping, their attitude began to shift slightly, thinking of her as an ally rather than just another mercenary.
The Region Officer, Richter, had rallied them out of their panic, but they still needed his leadership. His resolve and quick action had steeled them to make a stand as men, rather than turn tail and be run down like dogs.
Clair went to rest near Corona, and to adjust her and Corona's armor for the coming fight. It would be difficult with so many archers.
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Post by Richter Abend on Oct 15, 2009 23:27:15 GMT -6
Richter nodded, then watched Clair as she walked off to put Corona away. He rubbed his temples in frustration. He'd heard of that flag before. They were a warrior clan, and one of the more deadly of the Sacaen tribes. This was troubling. Richter had been in battles before, but none like this. This time, Richter was in command, and the fight would be tooth and nail. These Sacaens were out for blood.
Richter climbed the ladder up to the battlements. Checking up on the progress of the soldiers up there, he saw that they knew what they were doing. Nodding in approval, he walked up over the gate, and looked into the distance. He couldn't see the Sacaen army itself, but the dust they kicked up hung in the distance like an ominous doom. As Richter sat down on a crate, a soldier walked up to him. "Sir," the soldier asked nervously, "do you think we'll make it?" Richter just looked up at him and laughed dryly. "At this point, only the Maker knows...all we can do is wait."
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Post by Kraft on Oct 16, 2009 8:45:21 GMT -6
The District-Head spent his time praying to Saint-Elimine and transforming the little Church into a make-shift hospital. Half the monks had been told to fetch the wounded when the battle would start, the other half would stay to heal them. Suddenly his praying was interrupted by a soft noise, coming from the fields. The wind carried it into the little church and he could hear the excited voices of some of the soldiers.
It was the sound of footsteps. Hundreds. Of hooves. Of wardrums and horns. The high, fals notes the horns made, made him shudder. Animals. Bloodthirsty monsters! The sound became louder and louder and curiously the DH went to the wall accompanied by some of the soldiers Commander Richter had sent to protect him. What he saw was an army. They seemed to be divided into four groups. They seemed to be planning on attacking all walls at once. Suddenly the warcries and sounds stopped. Only the panting and breathing of men from both sides could be heard.
It was then that he saw the banner that seemed to mock the High Inquisitor. And from the band that protected the banner he heard a false, short note once again. It was answered by all four groups and without warning the arrows came flying. The attack had begun.
"MEN! FOR THE PROPHET! FOR GLORY!" The DH exclaimed before returning to the church. Avoiding the arrows wasn't hard thanks to the bodyguards and their shields. Once inside, he decided to give those barbarians a little something of their own medicine. He gathered the monks and on the top of their lungs theys started the ancient gospel of Saint Elimine, once written for her when she rode to battle.
It had begun.
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Post by Richter Abend on Oct 18, 2009 19:29:32 GMT -6
"Alright men, defend the walls with your lives!" shouted Richter to the soldiers. "For honor and glory, we fight for Etruria!" Richter thrust his sword in the air, and the men followed, all of them shouting a loud battle cry.
Charging through the Etrurian force's arrow volleys, the Sacaens approached the walls and began to hoist the ladders. It was apparent they would not back down in fear, no matter how many of them fell to the wooden shafts flying from the walls of the fort. A group of Sacaens in the back stayed behind and began to notch their arrows. "Archers! Target the group in the back!" shouted Richter, thrusting his sword towards the enemy fighters. As the two forces exchanged arrows, Richter tried his best to keep the ladders off of the walls.
It was a fool's errand. The Sacaens had surrounded the fort and were climbing up all sides. "Defend the walls! Kill any Sacaen within arm's reach!" Richter commanded. Pivoting to a ladder behind him, Richter thrust his blade through an approaching Sacaen's face. He could hear the bone crack as steel pierced bone. Blood spewed like a fountain from the man's face. Looking to his right, Richter saw a huge pot of boiling water. Getting behind it, Richter pushed the iron container over, sending a cascade of steaming pain to the soldiers down below. Sacaens howled as the hot liquid burned them. Seeing that more enemy soldiers were climbing up the ladder, Richter grabbed the topmost bar, and lifting with all of his strength, pushed it off the wall. Sacaen men went plummeting to the ground. "That should delay them for awhile," thought Richter to himself.
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