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Post by Oya on Sept 7, 2014 12:49:16 GMT -6
Defeat, it left a bitter taste in Oya's mouth. The pirate looked on as Nya's raiders began their retreat. Oya had seen to it personally that the catapults had been pulled back, but if it was up to him they would have continued forward. His mother, in whatever wisdom she possessed had ordered it, but a few of the pirates thought the words had come from Oya's mouth. Their displeasure could be seen on their faces as they marched back to the ships. The ship guard had built a small encampment near the shore to prevent the enemy from simply riding up to their ships and burning them. There Oya and the other pirates were to meet and rest for the next battle.
"Oya", spoke a pirate as the young warrior stood watching the walls.
"What is it", asked the pirate in a annoyed voice. Oya did not want to deal with anybody right now. His mind was focused on the battlefield. He wanted to know what he did wrong. What did he do to cause their defeat. He was sure he approached it strategically. He bombarded them with both arrows and catapults and moved his infantry in once the enemy numbers had dwindled. Still they were beat back. It was almost as if the heavens themselves were against them, though that would not be too surprising if he found that out.
"Oya your presence has been requested in the Commandants tent", spoke the man. His mother, she was not going to be pleased. She had given Oya command over her men and he had botched the job. Sure a great number of the enemy laid dead, but the pirates casualties were not small either. The whole thing was a disgrace on the Nya pirates name. They could not take one simply sacean city.
"Understood", spoke Oya as he turned around and began to walk toward the flag ship. His mother had set up camp inside of the vessel. Oya knew what he was going to walk into. His mother was going to be furious about the loss and his brothers were going to complain about him taking the lead and say they could have done better.
"I am here mother", spoke Oya as he entered the ship. His mother's expression was as he expected. She was serious, no jokes about babies, no chatter about her children. She was a pirate commander.
"Your late", she spoke as she looked at Oya. "Also don't call me mother. We are in a important meeting", she spoke as she began to disgust their losses. It was going to be one long night for Oya.
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Post by Valcrist on Sept 8, 2014 23:30:13 GMT -6
A... victory? It sure as hell didn't feel like a victory. The men cheered a little cheered, ecstatic to be done for the night but... The smith sighed. He had failed this little mission. The catapults were still intact, and they couldn't assault them now, it'd be suicidal. Even for Richter. He frowned while everyone grinned, as he watched the bandits fall back with knitted brows and a worried look on his face. A lot of people died there, he didn't know many of them but, it just felt like... they didn't do as much as they could. That they should... follow or something. Rout them so no one else would be harmed. There was nothing he could do however, outside of getting himself killed. So instead they would fall back and lick their wounds. Some people were saying that they 'won' but it wasn't really a victory. Not until it was over.
He sheathed his blade, the winds surrounding him dispersing in a small 'puff' of air, like a veil being torn asunder and falling off. He craned his neck around to survey the damage, it wasn't particularly flattering. Sure there were bandit corpses strewn about, there were also the bodies of their soldiers. They both took some heavy losses, though while on the actual field of battle it appeared they were in the winning side, there was no telling how many the catapults and their boiling oil killed.
He took his time returning to the city, watching as people picked up injured not-quite-dead fighters and returned with them for healing most likely. Hopefully there was a good cleric in the city that could tend to these men, some looked near death. In fact he was certain some died in the process of being moved, he let out a somber sigh as he walked forward, before a hand clasped on his shoulder. Valrist whirled on the spot, turning on the ball of his foot and quickly reaching down to draw his blade before suddenly stopping, looking surprised. He was still on edge, and almost attacked the man who was just one of the soldiers it seemed. The smith sighed, standing back straight, feeling a bit embarrassed. "Sorry." He told the man who just shrugged.
"We're all still a little on edge, don't worry about it." he said with a smile. He tilted his head slightly, looking positively cheerful. It was kinda dissonant with the surroundings actually, but he didn't seem to notice. Or if he did he didn't care. "I just wanted to catch you before you did whatever. You really saved me back there man, thanks. He did? The nabatan raised a brow, trying to remember. Oh, that's right, he was one of the Sacaen's Richter brought with him, Valcrist had killed the man attacking him.
"Oh, um... you're welcome?" He said, not entirely sure the proper response for a situation like this.
"Ah sorry, didn't mean to make this weird. I just wanted to thank you." The man said with good humor, and Valcrist chuckled with a nervous awkward laugh. He wasn't used to something like this, he helped people sure but he rarely stuck around for them to 'thank him'. "Take care of yourself out there." The man finished, patting Valcrist on the shoulder before jogging forward back towards the base, leaving the smith there a little blindsided. He found himself cocking a small smile as he walked back, he may not have been able to save everyone, but he saved someone at least.
He passed by Richter, and gave him a nod, not saying a word. He didn't really feel like words needed to be said right now. If they did, he didn't really know what words they were, so he preferred to look cool and stoic then silly and awkward.
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Mavick
Seer
Little Strategist
"The Darkness... It consumes me."
Posts: 208
Etruria Fame: -2
Sacae Fame: 1
Affinity: Dark
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Post by Mavick on Sept 11, 2014 13:36:29 GMT -6
Mavick gave a heavy sigh as the enemy forces began to retreat."Well done, Commander." All around him, the ragtag Sacaen militia began to realise that the day was theirs, and starting to shout and cheer as the Prophet's army fled. The short tactician looked around, smiling, before his face contorted into one of anger. "That's enough! You aren't saved yet!" he barked. "You three! You are to go to the other three gates, and report back here with the situation! Go!" He watched as the three young, able bodied Sacaens scrambled away in three different directions of the city, then turned back to the motley band.
"As for the rest of you, we have work to do. This battle isn't over, it's simply lulled. I'm splitting you into four groups. One group will be fixing and fortifying this palisade, one will be fetching what food and rations they can for us, one will be resting and tending to their wounds, and one will be keeping watch in case those Erturtian dastards decide to turn around and charge us again for what ever madness they've devised." The short tactician explained. "I know you're all tired, I know you just want this to be over. It will be. But not yet."
He looked out over the palisades to see Richter returning. Quickly, Mavick appointed four men over the divided groups, and ordered the watchmen to open the palisade gates. He strode out towards Richter, looking up at the much taller man. "Commander. Well done." he greeted. "I have the Sacaens divided into working groups, and three scouts heading to the other three fronts. We should know the whole situation soon. In the mean time, one of the groups is gathering water and rations, and I suggest you and your strike teams take advantage of them. I think we all can agree that it's been more than earned." Gone was the harshness from Mavick's face. Again, he looked uncharacteristically soft, even meek. But there was a slight spark in his eyes that had not been there a few hours hence. "Once the scouts have returned, we can discuss our next move."
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Aaron Winsett
Sage
Seeker of Knowledge
Knowledge is a weapon. I intend to be formidably armed.
Posts: 419
Sacae Fame: 1
Lycia Fame: 2
Profession: Student of Magic
OoC Alias: Feldsky
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Post by Aaron Winsett on Sept 13, 2014 21:19:19 GMT -6
As the horns for retreat sounded, it's sound was replaced for the pirate forces in his grasp by the sound of Death calling them to take their final walk with him. Retreat or not, Aaron drew on the power in his tome once more, freezing the water he'd conjured into a solid brick around the knees of his foes. These men were trapped, and short work was made of them, but the green haired sage could feel his strength fading quickly. He let himself drop to his knees in exhaustion, breathing hard as he did so. He abrubtly cut off all contact with magic, testing what reserves he had as he rested. Precious little remained. He'd spent the years growing his reserves to vast size compared with when he started, but right now he would rather not even try to light a candle. He would have to rest this off. Several hourse before he would be useful again. A day or more before he'd be at full capacity. Probably more.
Aaron looked around him, seeing the victors smiling and cheering. He tried to join them a bit, for what it was worth. They'd survived what looked like a hopeless situation. They deserved to be able to celebrate a little. Right now though, he was beginning to feel the drain take its toll on him for what he'd done.
Picking himself up, he started heading back towards the barricades. Most ignored him, but those who realized what he was gave him a little space. Caution was never underated when dealing with mages, or so prevailing opinions stated. He reached into his bag and searched through it for a moment before giving up. Damn. No food left....
Spotting what looked like the man who'd taken charge of the forces and the dark mage from earlier in the distance, Aaron headed towards them. Hopefully, one of them would be able to set him on the mend quicker.
"I'm tapped dry. I need something to eat and someplace to rest or I won't be of much use tomorrow." The sage didn't bother mincing words. He was too tired to be subtle or polite right then. Either that could help, or he'd move on and find some other person that could assist. He was so tired that he wasn't even waiting for Wyatt right now. Last he'd seen, the red-head had been up and about. The same couldn't be said of Aaron for much longer, and it showed. Even his tome bag was beginning to be more of a burden to him than he would care to tote around for much longer.
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