The Sisters of the Open Heart [Open]

[Cebron]

The large moss haired horseman patted his mare on her neck, one of his large callused hands could cover at least six of the white flecks. Cebron blew the right half of his mustache up with a quick exhalation of air from the corner of his mouth. He looked at the three women, as they waited and discussed the job at hand. He nudged Starry Morning over towards them, and spoke over the horses heavy hoof steps, "We're taking the fight to a band of about eighty, or so the reports tell us. They're holed up in a fort at the base of a mountain that's about three hours rider. The eighty in th' fort aren't the only members of the band, but their raiders have been seen to the south, meaning now is a good time to go against the fort. You three will fight with me, in the light cavalry. When we get to our camp the three of you can saddle up on some of our spare mounts, they're for marching only for now. Prove to me you can fight, then you can ride one of the beasts into battle." Cebron blew his mustache up again.

A Lycian drinking song came from a few yards away, and Cebron turned to see the two singers. The smooth baritone was the Lycain, Anselm, the Tenor was Nergui. One icey stare from their commander's eyes seemed to sober the two up to a somewhat respectable degree. The two quickly mounted their horses, and Cebron looked at his other two commanders, "Let's get movin'." Cebron kneed his horse lightly, starting her on a slow walk.

---------------

Cebron and his commanders peered toward the bandit base. It was a large ring of three storied buildings, with a broad pavilion in the center, and one path that went further into the base. He had his light cavalry stationed behind him, in full army. All units were ready to move, but he wanted the bandits to prepare for a smaller force. They could most likely see about half of the light cavalry, which meant about forty men on their mounts. He turned and said, "Eckhart, you'll take the van and draw them out, in hopes that their archers will be drawin into the battle. Then you'll retreat, and Kal will attempt to punch through, and Kal, you won't stop, you and your men will try to make it to the end of their fort. My unit and I will ride in and attempt to clear the pavilion, with Eckhart coming in for support to Kal and myself. Nergui, if any men come into the fray from the higher levels of the support, you and the archers take care of them. Understood?" All the commanders nodded. He looked at the light company, "COMPANY, PART!"

The light cavalry parted in half, creating a gap wide enough to let any of the other units pass. Eckhart rode through the gap toward his unit, and gave three hand signals. Half of his men mounted up, and rode towards the man, who turned his horse and rod towards the fort, with all of his men at his back. Kay and Nergui rode to prepare their units. Cebron had decided to only field half of his men in this battle, not willing to risk the whole unit even on something as simple as this. Besides, leaving some men behind meant they could run cleanup against the raiders if they returned.

Cebron rode toward his three newcomers, smiling, "Well, nervous?"

[Yorick]

"We go in, rout them out, and get paid. That's all that we're going to be told regarding it."

Wow! Helpful. That was definitely something Yorick had no idea would be going on. In fact, the Halberdier was under the assumption that the point of a well-armed mercenary company chasing down bandits was to offer them tea and snacks.

New to mercenary work? Now that was a laugh. Judging by the look of the young woman, she had to be only twenty at the oldest... She'd probably only fought a few times. A handful at most.

"Oh, my. You've got quite the idea of my past, don't you?"

"Don't expect to get more information, you do what you're told and you get paid. Not often do you actually receive specific information unless it's relevant to you completing the job. I wouldn't recommend asking either. If you can't handle that sort of work then I'd recommend taking for the hills before you're committed."

That was a bit aggravating, coming from the young archer.

"Look here, dearie. I'm Cordelia Imogen Yorick, and I've been fighting ever since I can remember. I've gotten through more scrapes than you can imagine, and I've got more scars than you could count. I don't take my work lightly. I'm a mercenary and monster hunter, and I've killed many fiends. I'm in no way new to this business.

It's just that I generally enjoy having a bit of an idea what I'm up against. The idea of blindly following orders with no idea of what I'm fighting doesn't sit well. You know? Maybe you do, maybe you don't... But what I can tell you, from my own personal experience, is that the only bandits that won't eventually destroy themselves are the organized, dedicated, and disciplined ones. And those are the kind that will prove problematic unless we are also organized, dedicated, and disciplined. Communication is key - you'll learn that if you survive another few years."

Yorick turned away from the archer, raising her eyebrow and rolling her eyes at Bones. Enough of that.

As the commander gave his explanation and his orders, Yorick smiled. Now that was what she was talking about. Clear communication and an effective and simple plan of attack.

"Yes sir. I'm ready."

---

It was time for the action to begin; Yorick stood with her hands on her hips, her gloved fingers feeling the cold metal of her armor. The plan was in her head, and she felt the familiar pre-combat warmth slipping through her. It was showtime, and she'd prove herself as the finest warrior born of the waves.

As the commander asked his simple question, Yorick gave him a smile. It was not a polite smile or a smile of fear; this smile was the assured, almost arrogant look of confidence in one's power.

"Aye. Give the word, and I'll go. I'm born of the Isles and I'll die on the Isles... I'll cut down so many you'll call me the 'lumberjack.'"

[Bones]

"If all mercenary groups acted that way then they are stupid", spoke Bones to the archer. "Half the battle is knowing what your opponent has in store for you. If you run in blind you die blind. It is like my father use to say know your enemy and know yourself. If you do that then you will win ninety percent of your battles. By not knowing your enemy your chance of success drops drops to forty percent at best. Also as a side not you should never underestimate wolves", spoke Bones as she stared down at her axe. "The moment you turn your back, they will rip your head off."

As Bones finished speaking the boss man rode up. He, like her, understood that information was power and shared with the group the specks on there enemies. Still his comments bothered Bones a bit. He seemed to think that fighting on horse back was the way to fight. Bones was old fashion. Horses were for plowing fields and getting to places. When you fought you fought with your feet on the ground.

"Nothing personal commander, but I prefer to fight on the ground. Battle is not only more exciting that way, but more meaningful. Calvary has its place in the grand theme of things ,but you will remember marching through the mud and guts to defeat your enemies more than gliding across a field on the back of a beast of burden."

--------

"Nervous, not really", spoke Bones as she checked her straps on her breastplate. The maiden had little to no other armor on. Her chest was covered by metal, but her legs, hands, and even her feet was clothed in common cloth. The only other piece of equipment of note was her steel section of her boots. "I have seen and fought men like these all of my lives. Bandits usually work off fear. If you don't feat them they loss half there power. I don't fear battle. In fact I welcome it. So if you want a clear cut answer to your question commander", spoke Bones as she pulled her axe off her back. "I am anxious."

[Cebron]

Cebron smiled as the woman gave him brave answers. It was good that they were brave, you needed all kinds in a band like his. You needed some to be brave, some to be cowards, some to be fools, and some to be empty vessels filled with the spirit and passion of the man next to them. Hopefully the cowards kept the brave from being killed, and the brave actually got the fighting done. The fools? Well, some had to be decoys, horrible as it was.

Eckhart blew his horn as he and his men returned, being chased down by a force of the bandits, lightly armored, on small horses. From their flank, came Kal and his heavy cavalry, wrapping around Eckhart and his riders, and running the bandits over. Kal's cavalry specialized in shock, which was ironic for a group you could hear from miles off. Cebron's favorite tactics usually included something like this, cycling through his units, until the enemy was so confused or tired, any of his men could fare well despite disadvantages in their arms or armor.

Cebron looked back at the new recruits, "To tell y'all the truth? I'm always nervous. Ah could probably take on all the bandits in there individually, but one stray arrow fired by accident's enough to kill me. Little bit of nerves is good though." He turned back, Kal was nearing the fortress. Cebron said without turning, "Time to go to work." He nudged his mare with his knees, and moved to the front of his unit.

He placed his helm on his head just before Kal blew his horn. It was a coventry sallet, with a much wider opening for his eyes, allowing him almost unhindered sight, but limited ocular protection. He lifted his recurve bow into the air, and yelled, "How do we fight!?" He kicked Starry Morning, and the horse was in a full gallop in a few moments. Behind him, he heard his men yell out his companies battle cry, "LONG AND HARD!" It had started as a snicker between he and the other young boys who had started the company when he was barely a man. Crying a double entendre as you rode into battle had put them in pieces. All those boys were dead now, and the man Cebron had become wanted a bit of humor as he rode towards what could possibly reintroduce them. Besides, the young men in his company found it as funny as he once had.

Cebron grabbed an arrow from his quiver, this one with an iron tip. HE notched it to his bow, and let go of his reins, letting Starry Morning ride true. Kal and his men were almost out of sight, and the bandits in the pavilion were clearly confused, some chasing them, some deciding to stay and defend. One man, on a rooftop turned to shoot an arrow into Cebron's ranks. Cebron released his arrow as Starry Morning's feet were off the ground together in an instant. Before the man could fire his shot, he was no longer on the roof, he was tumbling to the ground, an arrow clutching the life from his chest.

More men came into the pavilion, followed by more on the rooftop. To Cebron's satisfaction, a volley of arrows rained down on the bandits on the high ground. All according to plan.

[Bones]

"Life is always a battle", spoke Bones to herself as she checked her straps one more time. The maiden was going to move in on foot rather than ride with the horsemen. A few more of the new mercenaries also preferred to fight on land. Fighting on horseback was probably more effective than infantry, but Bones could not place her life in the hands of some beast. She has seen many a rider crushed by there own mount in war and she was not going to be one of them. Besides Bones needed to be on equal level with her opponent to fight. If she was on horseback then the fear would not be in her favor. It was as she said before. Bandits fight with fear and Bones was a bandit.

As Cebron shouted out his armies motto Bones could not help but think of something else. "It would be a man who would yell something like that out loud", spoke Bones as she gave off a small chuckle. The women then drew her axe from her back and rushed toward the enemy encampment. Even though the riders stole the show the infantry were the backbone of any assault. A horse was all good, but it could not be used to conquer structures and get into tight places. Eventually you were going to have to get on your own two feet and fight like real men. However that is where Bones and the others came in.

The pink hair maiden let off a Roar like a lion as she smashed into the bandit lines. The first few seconds of battle was almost like limbo. The bandits struck out at the attackers and the attackers struck out at the bandits. The battlefield had not chosen a side that would victorious yet so both sides struggled for the favor of the gods. The first kill however came quick, but to the people who were fighting it was almost a eternity. Bones swung her axe at another axemen who dodged the blow by jumping backwards. He then lunged forward hoping to strike the maiden in the skull with his bladed weapon. However Bones was ahead of him and in the moment of his retreat she moved her hand and grabbed her hand axe. As he lunged forward he was meet face to face with the flying steel. The blow had enough force on it to send him to the afterlife two times over.

"Cheeky Bastard", spoke Bones as she spit on his corpse. From that point on the fighting changed. The mercenaries began to press the bandits back. The volley of arrows did not hurt either as the infantry pushed forward to drive the enemy to the sea. [not literally]

[Yorick]

There was a flurry of activity, and Yorick found herself fighting alongside Bones as they slammed into the bandits like two waves meeting in the ocean. There were sounds of steel on steel, cries of rage and pain, and the whinnying of horses and the twanging of bowstrings.

All of that was lost to the Halberdier as she descended into battle mode. Her broadsword swung forward, slicing without resistance into the soft flesh of a man's neck, sending rivulets of red blood down the fuller of her blade, and she whirled, turning to plant another stab at a new foe as the old one fell dying. The man deflected it, his sword coming to match hers, and as he responded with a stab of his own, she brought her burnished shield up, feeling the heavy, reassuring impact of the sword on the shield. She swept the sword aside with her shield, smiling as she stabbed again, impaling the man and then kicking him off the sword before charging forward yet again. Near Bones, she knew she had a ready ally, and so she felt confident taking more risks.

There was not a bandit born that could defeat her at this moment. She felt calm, composed, and in tune with herself. Without a moment to lose, she charged at a foe, smiling as he brought his sword up to block her slash.

"Will ye give me a fight? Or are you just another pitiful fool who can't fight worth his weight in sand? I'll teach ye to fight, before I send ye to hell!"

[Una Stuart]

The redhead's gaze was steady, the tip of her thumb brushing her cheek while she steady drew back a nocked arrow. It didn't even take a moment for her to aim, a blue eye narrowed as she allowed the bowstring to slip from her fingers with a hearty twang. The sting snapped harmlessly against her leather bracer, and the arrow flew true into the throng of bandits. A single droplet in a vicious storm of arrows that rained upon them while the majority of their forces were still separate. It was second nature, muscle memory gripping the reins as she drew another arrow from the quiver tethered to her back and sent it off with the next volley. The start was always the easiest, friends and foes easily distinguishable from each other as the two forces came to collide.

Una changed tactics after the fourth volley, her focus shifting away from the mass at large to individual targets. Now she didn't seek to kill, not that she had any qualms about doing so to any of their opponents. No, attempting to take the bandits down one by one required far too much concentration and care for a battle of this size without any specific goals other than to simply rout the vermin. Rather she focused on hitting as many as possible in the time that was offered, injuring as many as she could so that their own mercenary forces would have an advantage. It was a habit after all, unlike the military where tiers ruled the value of their lives, mercenaries like herself kept survival a priority. They were people attempting to make a living, not soldiers fighting for some greater cause. No matter how irritating no one was ever expendable, and sacrifices were never anything other than horrific.

Her marks went unregistered, the woman paying little attention to successes nor failures as she continued to aim and release mechanically until her gut gave warning. She knew the feeling well, eyes quickly flickering away from the battle as she raised her arm over her shoulder and gently brushed the fletching of her arrows with her fingertips. Seven left. Una bit the inside of her cheek and lowered her bow, scanning the battle as she sidestepped over to the closest one of her fellows with a quiver and lifted two of it's inhabitants away. The man was far too engrossed to notice, or simply didn't mind enough to comment. She certainly was fond of the lack of formalities, saving precious moments by not asking questions that held blatant answers.

"Left!" a deep voice bellowed, and her eyes instinctively followed the order to catch sight of a handful of bandits that must have been fortunate enough to break through their lines with no more than an arrow to the shoulder and a scratch on the cheek.

The musical strum of arrows flying filled the air, as without hesitation the archers let loose a vile storm upon them. Three dropped under the storm of arrows, but the final two had the sense to raise their shields just in time to brave the brunt of it. Shields however do little to stop a blade to the back while they're focused on the less pressing threat.

[Cebron]

Cebron's eyes pierced his next opponent before any weapon did. A man high above the battleground drawing a bowstring back with considerable efficiency, however his breathing gave him away. His chest heaved at an incredible rate, and his mouth hung open. He was afraid. The fearful one's were always the simplest to kill. Shooting a brave warrior in the chest, well, that was like burning a priceless painting, or pouring a bottle of aged wine onto the dirt. Ashes were never pretty, and ants can't enjoy being drunk. Cebron notched an arrow, and pulled back. The muscles in his back and shoulder moved and ground against each other, plate tectonics shaking the earth that was his body with their tensions as he waited for the right moment to release. Then, Starry Morning's feet were of the ground all together, and the earth quake hit.

The earth quake hit about seven inches to the left of the man's temple, where Cebron had been aiming. Damn, Cebron cursed himself in his mind. He had been holding his bow arm too tight at his shoulder, so that as Starry Morning moved, so did his body, and so did it. The horse was now almost at the clashing point, and Cebron's bow would do him no good. He quickly unstrung his bow, and slid it into the tube on his saddle. He pulled his Gisarm from his saddle, and raised his arm, angling the polearm so that it was parallel to the ground. It was not the best weapong for use on horseback, but Cebron had carried it with him since the Bandit War, and knew how to use it from the back of a warhorse better than most could dream of on the ground.

Starry Morning punched into a line of bandits along with a line of other light cavalry men, and swung his gisarm down, sweeping it in a diagonal crescent as he rode past a bandit. The bandit blocked the swing with his axe, but the gisarm was so that by turning the weapon, Cebron was able to drive it down free of the hook of the axes blade. His blade cut deep within the man's shoulder, but Cebron did not see if the man fell as the thick Lycian rode forward.

[Bones]

As the army charged forward Bones ran into the thick of things. She needed to feel the heat of battle and savor the violence. She thrived on this kind of thing. Bones like the people they where fighting, was a bandit. She lived the life and did the deed. Unlike everyone else who saw them as simple vermin to be cut down Bones saw them as failures who could not defend themselves. They had built up a nice group, but from what she could tell they where weak. If she had been running this gang or if she had designed there defenses they would have been better. These fools where to focus on the raids and not enough on there own personal health.

"Idiots", she spoke as a man took a swing at her. Bones ducked dodging the horizontal attack. The man tried to counter her however with a backhand strick, which she blocked with her left forearm. Taking her axe Bones ducked and slicked them man behind his knee cap. The blow caused him to fall down on a knee and left him open to Bones counter attack. Quickly the maiden kicked him in the chest with her steel toed boot knocking him back onto the ground. Rather than try and take him down with a downward axe swing Bones pulled out her hand axe and tossed it into the man's skull. It was safer that way and more efficient. Bones had seen way to many comrades die right before they took down a opponent on the ground. Pulling her hand axe out his head Bones looked around. There was plenty of more fighting to go and more men like this guy to kill.

"Why does this leave such a bad taste in my mouth", spoke Bones as she pressed forward.

[Bones NPC for rest of the thread]
OCC: Hey I am going to pull out on this one. Need the space. However I am still in the invasion one. You can Npc Bones if you need her for anything.

[Yorick]

OOC: Gonna play this thread out as if Yorick still has access to all three weapon types, since it started pre-changes
IC:

"Haha! Forward! Press on!"

The Halberdier laughed again and continued her sword battle with the bandit, feinting left and stabbing right, gritting her teeth and pushing her weight through as her broadsword punctured his skin and pierced through his liver. The man went down and his opponent went forward, her pink hair splattered with red blood as she charged, swinging brutishly as she and the other mercenaries surged forward. The battle was in full swing now, with the archers busy firing overhead, filling the air with arrows that buzzed like angry hornets. But none of the commotion disrupted the Halberdier, who continued her charge until she and a group of mercenaries slammed headfirst into a bandit line.

The line buckled like wet paper, but then bent back to attempt to smother the human projectiles that had tried to puncture the line. Yorick found herself in a huge mess of swinging swords and roaring voices, and so she did what she did best and started swinging. The iron sword sung, ringing as it clashed against shield and axe, and Yorick smiled as she swept her blade like a scythe into an opponent's side, frowning when he expertly blocked it with his axe, grinning and then swinging at her. She raised her own sword, barely managing to stop the attack and stumbling backwards, confused. She stared at the weapon, and her eyes briefly widened - it was a swordreaver, an axe specifically built to combat swords.

"Oh damn."

[Una Stuart]

Eight left.

Una would not even entertain the notion that she had not prepared her supply of arrows properly. She had simply gone through them that quickly in the heat of the battle. It was easy to do so when one's head rose above the chaos of the battlefield and focused purely on their- or in this case her job. In the end it was always just about the job. She could make do with eight for now. Their opponents had thinned out, and halving their volley wouldn't do any harm considering the rise in the number of stragglers breaking through the line and making right for them.

It was pleasing that the change in formation was called for without any further waste of both their ammunition and time. The militaristic efficiency was necessary for a force as large as they were, and she squared her shoulders and bellowed out the order along with the rest of them to be sure that it was known. The line of archers rippled and thinned, half taking a knee with arrows nocked. They took the task of protecting the line, keeping stragglers from a successful approach that would disturb their standing counterparts. Targets were called before firing, conserving arrows. No man needed to have four arrows flying towards him until he had grown far too close, by then it was necessary. Their standing counterparts continued with their prior objective, switching positions in the case of a snapped bowstring or a lack of arrows.

[Shil]

Shil had been stumbling in the forests of Bern for some time, ever since he got onto that boat he'd been wondering what kind of riches this island had for him, but know he wasn't so sure. After letting him off of the boat the only thing he could do was make a few measly coins off of pick pocketing. He was tired of only earning scraps, he'd been doing that his entire life. He had to think of something big this time, find a rich city with plenty of loot just ripe for pinching from under some fat noble's nose. Ah, but what good is a heist without the experience to pull it off, all he had was a knife and some wit, and wouldn't unlock a display case or open a window. While his odd string of thoughts continued he stumbled upon what looked to be a camp, though upon further examination from a hill he realize that it couldn't really be an army camp, no it couldn't be, not with the way it's organized, it had to be a mercenary camp.

Then he got an idea; where there's mercenaries there's the spoils of battle. With a wicked grin he knew what he had to do, and it looked like a golden opportunity had presented itself quite nicely because they were fighting something 'Probably some idiotic bandits, I should get down to business while I can.' he thought. With his knife out he made a silent dash down to the camp and slowly cut an entrance into the cloth walls before slipping into the camp. While inside he tried his best not to get noticed while trying to find where the group kept the spoils as the battle raged on.