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Post by ashenmoon on Oct 22, 2017 10:24:48 GMT
turn 1: day 1, just past noon - MAPS LINK
turn ends: 25th October
“It is not yet time,” the Mark replied.
Denios Troklos casually noted Boriates’ suppressed frustration before taking in the Vanozza Fastness ahead. The man, Denios could tell, was all but bursting to yell at the seraph.
Understandable enough, as the host had been marching for nearly a month through wilderness inhabited only by rocks and wild savages. There were no less than four Generals-of-rank in the force - Boriates, Arbanes and Kolozotis, Nikaioforos; the cream of the Malvernian military - and none of them had an inkling of the Hunter’s plans.
Neither did Denios, technically speaking. But he had his suspicions.
As Boriates had pointed out, the terrorist attack against the Empress and Emperor had shook Malvernian society to its core. At least, that part of its society which recognized that such an attack ought to have been impossible - if not for inside help.
Just what was the Hunter hunting? Why bring the three top generals on an expedition - the Hunter was proud, but not wasteful - plus the one that had been all but incapacitated for a year? Nikaioforos, as far as Denios could determine, had had no opportunity to work treachery.
The others, however...
“... it does not matter,” the Mark was saying. “We have arrived.”
*
The Vanozza Fastness was built by the Mason, aeons ago. At least the core of the fortress, squeezed into between the mountains in a deep valley. Over the years, the Old Empire, Dominion and Republican additions to the original defences have, like barnacles over a behemoth of the deep, crept across the sheer mountain-sides, spilled out over the valley.
The forward defences - twin arms, resting upon the heights above and stretching east and inwards to almost encircle a region the size of a small city - were, naturally, the first to spot the column of Malvernian soldiers snaking up the winding road. These days, only the north side - the Marble Towers - were manned, as the stairs leading to the south side were in great disrepair.
Alessandro de Cereso, watchman on guard, managed a single, feeble ring of the alarm-bell before a pride of manticores tore his body apart. The sound coincided with a strange rain beginning to fall from skies turned a muddy ochre, and the rest of the company stationed in the Marble Towers did not manage to break through to the bell. They sent runners up the mountain to spread the word instead, and fortified themselves in the depths of the Towers.
So it was that it was Marconi Escula, two weeks from retirement, standing upon the battlements of the Fastness itself, that first saw the Malvernian host spilling into the Inner Valley.
Soon, all the Fastness was ringing with alarms and shouts. The garrison lined the crenellations and looked down as more and more of the Malvernian army appeared.
But, for all their enemy’s numbers, the Republicans felt little fear. The Fastness had never fallen. Few were the fools who had attempted to attack it. Not even in the dawning age of blackpowder and cannons was the Fastness threatened: for who had better artillery than the Republicans defending it? A garrison half their size could hold off an enemy twice as great for weeks.
Then a figure emerged from the midst of the Malvernian host. Silver flashed in the gloom as he put a hunting-horn to his lips and blew...
*
Someone was shouting at him. General Nikoforos of House Argynyx reluctantly lowered his hands from his ears: the noise was still deafening. He looked to his side.
“The honor is all yours,” General Kolozotis spat at his face. “The Hunter wants you to take command of the mop-up operations.”
The man had never forgiven him for a brief dalliance with his wife. Nikoforos looked back at the Fastness.
It was falling apart, brick by brick, towers toppling in clouds of spray, as if the very rock and mortar had turned to sand.
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Post by Devius on Oct 24, 2017 21:01:57 GMT
Synesius’ face was firmly locked in a sour grimace as he looked over the mountain pass. The cold winds found their way through his garments and he dearly missed the heat of his furnace. He forced himself out of the daydream with a shake of his head and made his way back to his troops. He did his best to ignore the stares of the soldiers as he passed, cradled in the arms of his servant golem. A cripple has no place on the battlefield! Their eyes screamed, and Synesius agreed. “Faster, Maka.” He ushered, and the golem sped up. Soon he was back in the midst of his creations and felt his misery wash away. Their faces were just as beautiful as the day he had shaped them. No hint of scorn in their eyes, as per his design. He beckoned for one in particular. “Themis! Where are you, Themis?” A fair golem with a crown of wings appeared before him, bowing its head in deference. Synesius waved his hand dismissively. “Now now, there is no need for that. Stand proud, my dear.” The golem complied and met his gaze. “Much better. Your beauty is wasted on the dirt.” He grinned. “I have mission for the Steadfasts. One portion of the army will circumvent the fort, and they will need your help to scale the walls. Can you do that for me?” As he spoke, he reached out to caress the golem’s face. Themis nodded in affirmation and, whether intentional or not, dodged his hand in the same motion. The golem turned to relay the order to their troops and left Synesius staring blankly at his outstretched hand. [ Orders specified on this map.] |
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Post by HED on Oct 25, 2017 13:00:30 GMT
Denios Troklos
He stood, bow strapped to his back and weapons sheathed at his waist, watching the forward thrust of the army march onward. His white garb was covered, disguised. It would not do to have him stand out on the battlefield. He scratched absentmindedly at his beard, which was starting to speck with grey, calm amidst the coming of the chaos. Denios Troklos had seen the look of shock on the faces of men as the Fastness crumbled. On soldiers of the Empire and the Republic alike. It is one thing to hear of the power of an Archon, another to behold it. But one was not to take the composed look on Denios’ face as a lack of awe. None respected the power of the Three more than he. It simply did not surprise him. As chief of the Abstinents and Fist of the Voice, he had seen it before. He did not have his Abstinents with him now. They were elite – far too elite to keep in one place. History spoke of an Abstinent as a one-person army. Take the case of Nebalech III. His empire was not toppled by an army, by an individual. With a single strike, an Abstinent dealt a more decisive blow than had been dealt in scores of battles. And, in that tradition, the Abstinents had been dispersed. Some were on missions by themselves, but many had been assigned to armies. So it was that Denios Troklos had been chosen to join the Hunter’s first strike. No other would be more appropriate to represent the shadowy third of Malvern’s Three. Synesius, in his own way, represented the Scribe. General Nikaioforos, and the others, were of the Hunter. Not that he was alone. He had a squadron of the Lapsed with him, and of the Malachite Hand. Denios was of the Voice, and so commanded his Choruses. While the companies he led would take care of the more traditional theaters of war, he and his fellows would do as they were trained to. They would be wasted in the thick of battle. A voice growled from behind him. “This is not your place, Denios.” He turned to see the approach of Melusene. The panther spirit looked no different from the day they’d first met, decades ago. “Nor is it mine,” the spirit continued. “You did not call me here after all these years to watch as archers siege a battlement. Whether the fortress is crumbling to dust before our eyes or not makes no difference.” “We are of one mind, old friend.” Denios said, smiling. “Rest assured, things are in motion.” He gestured for the panther to follow him. Denios led her to his personal guard. The Lapsed were dressed plainly, as any other soldier would be. Once, they had aspired to the white of an Abstinent, but they had all failed to prove themselves worthy. Most did. There was no true shame in becoming one, only disappointment. It was something Denios saw in the eyes of Paulus. It pained him to see it. He felt nothing but pride for the warrior he had become. The Abstinents prized the Lapsed, no matter their feelings about themselves. “Paulus!” Denios said, catching the ear of his nephew. “You and your men will follow me, and Melusene, over the walls. Let the soldiers siege the walls; we will destroy them from the inside.” Denios gave his men a look like a professor to his students. “Care to tell me how?” “The Steadfast,” Paulus said, spying the Golem squadron on the move. “Quite right. I’m leading some of our forces west. The Golems will bring us right over,” Denios explained “Be brave, boys. Malvern speaks with one Voice.” [ Orders specified on this map.] |
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Post by kerrah on Oct 25, 2017 19:16:23 GMT
General Nikaioforos watched the fortifications crumble before his eyes, his awe muted by the bedsores he'd gained on the way here, and by the pain on his knee from the bouncing of the wagon wheels underneath him. The ringing in his ears was all too real, at least. He inclined his head at Kolozotis and spoke: "I thank the Hunter for the honour, as I am sure you thank him for having you guard our backs." He wondered for a bit how it would look if he was betrayed by his fellow generals. Much of his journey up here had been spent in speculation of various ways he could die, and what they would sound like, written in a history book. Sitting upward, the general watched the battlements continue to fall down. Even as the vanguard was advancing past the first piles of rubble, the fortress up ahead was starting to collapse too. It was a chain effect, like a rout. Every falling tower or fall seemed to convince those next to it that it was best for them too to give up. This first part would be bloody. They had to prevent the enemy from re-fortifying the bottleneck, and prepare for a counteroffensive when other armies in the region got here. He started giving out his orders to various small flying spirits, in the likeness of sparrows or swallows, who flew off the relay them. "And tell the damn golem master that we need the ramp, as discussed. Right over there, by the fort. Up out of the valley. The mercenaries will fight in the main breach, and our own men up the ramp", he told a clay bird which flew off to summon the golems which would construct their bypass. Troklos would take control of that offensive, which was all the better. Nikaioforos had considered writing a book, once. He was literate, and he'd read most of the classics, for the sake of banter in the court, but he wasn't the type to write good prose himself. However, he recalled writing in his abandoned first draft: The first rule of battle; never send your best into the fray first. If your best get beat, no one else will dare to fight. If you are going to win with nothing but your best, then don't bring anyone else with you in the first place. He still recalled the clumsily worded lesson to a word, sighing in frustration, and watched the mercenaries rush toward the ruined fortress. At the time that he left the court, aged twenty-nine and already a general, he had not had many friends among his own people. An upstart from a once-great house brought low, and a scoundrel at that, the Malvernians had seen little good in him except his usefulness as a weapon. Those had been the days before the Eclipse, when there was a general fear that the Republic might invade south. Forging of alliances, small conquests, opening of trade routes, the construction of fortresses. For a young man, given up on romance but rededicated to martial pursuits, it had felt like he had found his purpose. And it was in those years that he'd made most of his friends, too. The pyromancer Inni, Prince Sakan of the Jelin, the disgraced cataphract Delon, and even the insane King Hano. Two of Hano's sons served in Nikaioforos' personal guard right now. Of course, now those days were seen as uneventful for Malvern. Forgettable, even. It wasn't until the Siege of Umdan, six years later, that Nikaioforos had gained reentry to the public awareness for his exploits. The more chaos, the more suffering, the more they seemed to like him. He'd had his share of defeats, a few of them he considered humiliating, but he didn't for a second doubt that he was good at what he did. The first men were beginning to die, now. Dying for an Empress who wasn't even their ruler. "Don't worry", the general muttered, stone-faced. "Your epitaph will be worth reading."
[ Commands.] |
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Post by ashenmoon on Oct 27, 2017 13:46:36 GMT
Note: the compass of the map has been turned so that up=north. It was annoyingly confusing. turn 2: day 1, mid-afternoon - MAPS LINK
turn ends: sun 29 October
Vanozza Fastness was no more.
For a thousand years the works of the Mason, nestled in the deep valley, had blocked the entrance to the Carrana mountains. In as many heartbeats, the call of the Hunter had dissolved the very mortar of the fortifications. All that was left were precarious, crumbling structures, a great rubble-heap slowly sagging in on itself in clouds of dust. Here and there, towers yet perched upright; elsewhere, the walls were reduced to dunes of sand.
Mercenaries from the fringes of the Empire of Malvern rushed forth to claim dominance over the ruins. Ritually scarred shock troops waded through fine powder and clambered across blocks of stone that had, only minutes before, formed impenetrable defenses.
But rocks were not Vanozza’s only defenders. Just as the Scarred (red H1, H2) reached the tops of the mounds, men of the Republic charged against them from the other side, led by captain Charlos of the Hunter Regiment (yellow K2). Companies of highlanders and mountaineers navigated the strange new landscape with expertise.
The Scarred were pushed back. The Republic reclaimed their ramparts..
Longbowmen from the far south, led by princess Kassai (red A1, A2), unleashed wave after wave of arrows over the heads of the Scarred, as the latter were joined by Saktha exiles (red L). With visibility approaching zero, the battlefield dissolved in chaos, as men moved with the ebb and flow of combat.
An hour passed. A deadly cat-and-mouse game evolved, with companies of Malvern mercenaries reforming under cover, then charging forth under Republican fire to claim the wasting remains of some ancient bastion, only to yield it as indefensible shortly after. Squads of Republican sharpshooters scaled the heights of the valley sides and, through the ever-expanding fog of dust, fired down from unseen vantage points. The Republican defenders noticed, however, that sometimes it was as if the Malvernian troops were impervious to their fire: thus they learned of The Iron Curtain (green IC) - a coterie of arcane mages who strode through the maelstrom of battle untouched.
Another hour passed like it. It seemed the attack had all but stalled, and the defenders dared to push forward...
Then Malvernian forces issued down from the eastern valley-side into the defenders’ flank. A handful of Republican defenders, cut off from their brethren, had long tried to hold off a company of tireless golem-soldiers as they relentlessly worked to gain the east walls and build a ramp for a great concentration of Malvernian soldiers waiting in hiding. When, at last, the golems had cleared the wall and prepared the way, the flood-gates were opened.
The Hammer (green X) and the Second Chorus (purple SC) descended upon Charlos’ men and spilled into the narrow valley which the Fastness had been protecting. Wounded and tired Republicans fell back before the onslaught.
In a matter of moments, the Republicans signalled a hasty retreat.
The Malvernian mercenaries rejoiced as they passed over the blood-soaked ruins. Hundreds, if not thousands, had fallen in the dust-choked maze which was all that remained of Vanozza Fastness.
Ahead, another narrow valley climbed towards another set of walls; the Rear Walls of Vanozza, mostly untouched by the Hunter’s magic but in utter disrepair nonetheless. The Rear Walls loosely guarded the widening rim of the valley: beyond it opened up the Carrana mountains proper. The Malvernians charged towards it...
Then a shot rang out over their heads. Many would, afterwards, claim to have heard the specific shot, even to have seen the sniper’s muzzle flash from the western heights.
A great portion of the buried remains of Vanozza erupted in explosion. A red ball of fire rose in the air, spewing black, acrid smoke and painting the valley as a lurid vision of hell: the bloody and weary men, brown with the swirling miasma of dust they had fought through, streaked with sweat; and above them, the alien ochre of a gloomy sky.
*
It seemed the Republican defenses had finally shattered. General Nikaioforos was following along the Iron Curtain and the mauled remains of the Scarred heavy infantry towards the Rear Walls. when he felt the wave of heat upon his back like the slap of a hand. A loose shower of sand and pebbles, stinging but harmless at this distance, peppered the side of his face as he turned.
Princess Kassai’s archers had been crossing the ruins when the explosion rang out. Men close to the fortress had been thrown to the ground by shifting grounds: it appeared the Hunter’s magics had, in the process of tearing down the walls, also buried an extensive underground portion of the fortress.
*
Denios Troklos watched from the heights to the west as the black tower of smoke twisted like a devil.
Melusine, who had leaped up the mountain side to his back, joined him in contemplating the scene below. She told him that she had found a path, due north over the mountain, which could take them past the Republican defenses below. Few normal humans would be able to make the crossing, but perhaps Synesius’ golems could assist a company or two in making it over the mountain.
*
Lucrezia Dreyal was standing in the entourage of the Hunter when the Flock, a handful of spirits in the bodies of birds, returned to make their report. They had lost some of their number to Republican sharp-shooters whose range and precision had exceeded the Flock’s expectations.
Beyond the Rear Walls, they reported, a second and much larger valley, and less steep, valley opened up. The road through the pass continued north through it along its western side, along a lake: the eastern side of the valley was forested.
The Republican forces appeared to making their way north along the road. There appeared to be some two and a half thousand soldiers:
K1: a heavy regiment of rangers, K2: a lighter regiment, rather damaged, M1 and M3: heavy companies of rangers,
as well as a number of smaller squads of rangers and snipers. There had also been some defenders stranded in Vanozza, but following the explosion, their fate was uncertain.
*
Synesius Lascaris was resting in the arms of Makario when the Malachite Hand descended from the west and reported the findings of their mission to him. They had scouted the mountains to the west; there appeared to be no easy approach within the closest few miles - climbing had been necessary in places. But they had made it to the top and found the walls there deserted.
Synesius knew that a cavalry company had been sent east to scout a farther distance: they had not returned yet.
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Post by HED on Oct 30, 2017 13:36:09 GMT
Denios Troklos watched from the heights to the west as the black tower of smoke twisted like a devil.
Melusine, who had leaped up the mountain side to his back, joined him in contemplating the scene below. She told him that she had found a path, due north over the mountain, which could take them past the Republican defenses below. Few normal humans would be able to make the crossing, but perhaps Synesius’ golems could assist a company or two in making it over the mountain.
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Denios Troklos Denios, standing astride a ridge watching the carnage below, was surrounding by representatives of the companies he led. Melusene, the great spirit, was at his side. “Now that, Melusene, is more our style,” Denios said, smiling. The leopard growled in concurrence. “No reason to waste any time.” He turned to face his council. “Melusene has found a way through. Our forces must be split. Conductor!” Denios shouted, and turned to an attentive man in fine dress. This was Duokas, a representative of the Second Chorus. “Give word to the Chorus, and to the Mudmen. Reinforce the fray below, and make sure nobody notices our movements.” “Yes, lord Troklos,” Duokas nodded, and held a fist to his chest. Next, Denios turned to the representative of the golems, of the Steadfast. It was a beautiful creature. He appreciated Synesius’ aesthetic taste. “You proved yourselves at the wall. Now, I have a real challenge for you,” he said, his voice encouraging. “Get us over the mountain. Alive and well.” He turned next to the strangers, the representatives of Dreyal’s men. He didn’t know them well, but he knew good soldiers when he saw them. And for this mission, he would need the best. He said nothing, but nodded. They understood; they would be joining the Lapsed on the way across. Into, Denios hoped, the heart of the Republic's defense. *Pending any overruling by Kerrah, Dev or Mike |
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Post by Devius on Oct 30, 2017 16:57:37 GMT
Synesius looked over the ruins of the fort and scowled. The Hunter’s methods were too rash, though it would be treason to say so. He could only sigh. After a few moments of deliberation, he motioned and all golems reacted as one, beginning to follow him up the hill. After a moment of forgetfulness he turned to the men of the Malachite Hand who were still awaiting orders. “Yes, you too. Now come along.” He said in a pale tone of indifference, and continued onwards. [ Take all nearby units and cautiously move forward] |
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Post by kerrah on Oct 30, 2017 17:44:16 GMT
Nikaioforos watched the soldiers die, and willed himself to think of them as pieces on a game board.
He couldn't call off the offensive. Not while the golem ramp was still being built. The meatgrinder had to be fed. As soon as the flank opened up, the enemy fled further back, just as expected. Malvern was making good time. They were well in their chances of making through all these walls before too many reinforcements arrived.
He was about to order for his litter to be brought forward when suddenly one of the towers exploded. Thankfully he was far back enough to not be in any danger himself, but many of their troops had suffered damage. He mumbled a curse at having to wait for the dust to clear before knowing what the situation was. "Why couldn't that damned horn sog up their gunpowder? Would be much more useful than collapsing the towers", he mumbled to himself.
While the dust settled, damage reports started coming in, along with correspondance from the flank team. They were going to continue along the same method sa before.
"I'm going to run out of mercenaries to throw at the walls at this rate", the general mumbled to himself, and turned to another messenger spirit. "Have the longbowmen pepper them for a while, and try to find a weakness in the walls under the cover of arrowfire. The walls MUST have taken at least some damage. No frontal assault until we can be sure it's worth it. And have our excess people start to put together something looking like siege weapons: rams, ladders, towers. Just to make it look like we're going to assault the walls. I'm sure they can find wood in the collapsed fortress to at least put on a show. Do it by the ramp, out of gunshot!"
His blood was starting to pump faster, though he lay down. It was getting hard to stay melancholy. The ticking clock of enemy reinforcements added to the excitement of the situation. That explosion had been a smart card, but he wasn't out of tricks of his own. As his main bird to the mercenary forces took off, he brought in another one:
"Bring in the catapuls and those round ones, up here. If the enemy abandons their fort except for a token force, we can shoot them past the wall to easily open the gate from that side."
[as above, commanding all units yielded to the front approach]
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Post by conumbra on Oct 31, 2017 3:12:21 GMT
Lucrezia was perfectly willing to leave the command f the men she'd brought to others. She'd been thorough in her briefings, the other commanders were well aware of their capabilities. They were some of the best soldiers coin could conjure. Besides, she was not about to get any closer to the battle than she had to; already the smells of gunpowder, blood and death were much too stifling for her taste, but any further back and she wouldn't be able to relay the Flock's information. Oh yes, those she'd kept as her own. Her prized aviary was not something she would ever let another handle. Who knew what these creatures would divulge if the right questions were asked? The secrets they had seen on the pleasure-streets of Laksh, in the armory quarter of Jambhil, in the counting houses of court and criminal alike. They had such attentive eyes.
Parsing the information, she had it relayed to the other commanders and the Hunter. Best not hide anything; whole truthfulness now -when it didn't much matter- would buy more trust later down the line, trust which she might need to take advantage of if this got as far as she hoped.
She leaned down to brush the mane of her horse, contemplating where to send the birds next. Clearly the Republic could damage them even if by chance, so it was best to have them avoid the main army for the moment. Yet that forest was troubling...if she were the enemy she would place an ambush within. Retreat, draw the enemy within, then attack once far enough. Whether the defenders had enough to pull that off, it should at least be crossed off. So as the raptors landed among her, the spirits within eager to fulfill their next mission, she told them to circle east over the mountains, circling around the army to avoid sharpshooters, and to take a good luck at the forest to rule out potential ambushes. Also best to check the surrounding mountains of that valley for hidden passes or other avenues of escape. In such an environment, guarded by the Republic and remote, the accuracy of Malvern's maps was questionable.
The birds took to the air, flying high and training their magnificent eyes on the ground, Spirits of sight and surveillance, they were only too happy to fulfill a role that let them do what they most desired.
[Green FL circle east around the Republican army, scour the Forest and approach to it for ambushes or other hidden units. note the location (if any) of other mountain passes or roads that offer different routes out of the valley than the Northernmost one]
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Post by ashenmoon on Oct 31, 2017 10:30:20 GMT
turn 3: day 1, late afternoon - MAPS LINK
turn ends: fri 3 November
As smoke from the explosion cleared, the battle entered a new phase. Republican forces - with captain Khastor (yellow K1) in their fore - hunkered down behind the Rear Walls and desperately shored up the crumbling fortifications. The Hunter’s magics had not reached this far - the ruinous state of the Rear Walls were the result of centuries of neglect. No enemy had ever penetrated the central Fastness. Now Malvernian troops spilled over the remains of those forward defences and filled the valley below Khastor’s regiment. The Malvernians called this next valley the Upper Valley; the Republicans who had made their home in the citadel simply called it “the back yard”. Jelin longbowmen, faces torn with worry for their princess - injured in the explosion - took up positions on the floor of the Upper Valley and fired volley after volley over the Rear Walls. Republicans fired back, but found to their dismay that - despite their height advantage - the Jelins outranged them. When snipers crept forward with their long-rifles, they found their shots flying wild of their targets - the Iron Curtain covered the Jelins within a protective bubble. Despite all that, the Jelins’ barrage came to little. The Republicans took cover behind the rocks of their walls and the mountains, and as the Jelins wearied, the initial fury slowed to a desultory patter of missiles. The Republicans suffered, but did not budge, as the rest of the Malvernian army began constructing siege equipment salvaged from the ruined fortress. Two hours passed with little change. The sun began sinking in the sky towards the high mountains: night came early, in these parts. Then captain Charlos (yellow K2) sounded the alarm from the Republicans’ flank: a Malvernian company had been spotted to the east - on the north side of mountains so sheer that only the best mountaineers could make the passage. Charlos rallied the Hunter regiment and charged forth - for all the Republicans’ surprise, he knew they had the numbers - only to crumple to the stony ground, eye pierced by a sniper’s bullet. The Hunter regiment faltered in shock, then fell back as they beheld The Steadfasts (orange TS) clanking inexorably towards them - metal husks, soulless and tireless golems. More Malvernians appeared out of the mountains - The Hammer, elite shock troops. The Republicans manning the Rear Walls began to slowly fall back, waiting for the Hunter regiment to rejoin them - but barely had they left their positions at the walls when their eyes widened in disbelief. From across the valley, where Malvernian catapults had been set up, sailed a dozen enormous balls through the air. As those projectiles struck behind and into the Rear Walls, they unfolded into the armored Demolisher Giants (orange DG), as tall as two men, who immediately tore down what remained of the Walls around them. The Republican defenders shuddered, then began to run. The Malvernians in the Upper Valley rushed forth. Then a familiar sound, so far unheard on the battlefield, echoed between the mountains. Cannon fire struck The Steadfasts. Inquisitorial banners waved over the road leading into the mountain pass to the north. * Denios Troklos watched as Steadfasts, struck by what seemed to be little more than pebbles from the initial cannon impact site, simply… fell apart. The first shots had barely touched the Steadfasts, yet two things were immediately clear. First, that the cannons were ensorcelled - the Inquisitorial magic’s stain was tangible, even without the helpful banners waving in the north, proclaiming the Inquisition had arrived. Second, that if they were caught out in the open by those cannons, they would all be dead before help could arrive. * General Nikaioforos saw the Demolisher Giants tear open the Rear Walls. The Second and Third Choruses rushed forth into the gap. The few remaining Republican figures that had been visible on the walls had disappeared. The Jelins and the other tribesmen and mercenaries were weary and had taken a great deal of losses. But, they had borne the brunt of the battle: the Carrana mountains lay open ahead. * About a hundred dusty, weary and bloodied Republican prisoners were led out of the ruins of the Fastness. Synesius Lascaris looked down at them, then studied the mountains around. The famed Carrana marble would, he suspected, make a fine material for his art - but there was none to be found here. Further across the mountains, he knew, the marble quarries threw a checkered pattern on almost every available surface. * The Fuma Riders returned from their scouting mission to the east; Lucrezia took their report. The Hunter and his entourage, while nearby, had ceded command of the battle to mortal hands, and paid little attention to what was going on. The Fumas had scouted the eastern river-valley and approached the Walls there: they had spotted some Republican defenders - enough that the riders had not tried to cross the walls on their own, but seemingly no great concentration of forces. South of the walls, they had seen no one. Shortly after, the Flock returned after a more cautious circuit of the north. Lucrezia added their information to her map. There were four passages deeper into the Carrana mountains, only one of which had a proper road - the one due North, the main route through the mountains. North-west, west and northeast led smaller paths into mountain valleys. The Flock had spotted the Republican forces from before, concentrated at that time behind the Rear Walls and the western side of the Upper Valley’s heights, as well as what had appeared to be one or two thousand men approaching from the North - mostly cavalry. |
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Post by Devius on Nov 3, 2017 15:57:39 GMT
Synesius looked at the arriving prisoners and scowled. Earlier he had been surrounded by his creations. Now they were all in the heat of battle, leaving him alone and exposed. Well, all except one. He caught himself stroking his servant’s chest. “Not now, Maka.” He whispered accusingly. The golem remained still and unblinking, just like before. With no creations to do his bidding, Synesius begrudgingly ordered Makario to bring him to the Hunter’s host in order to discuss the prisoners. He wanted immediate and unquestioned access at any time. While there might not be any proper material in the vicinity, he wanted to be ready when they struck gold, or marble in this case. Besides, he’d had his servant bring a block of clay from his workshop, in case he needed to send a message by bird. As he approached, some prisoners turned to spot the source of the lumbering strides. He saw faces light up in fear, disgust, and defiance. However, for just a moment, some of their eyes betrayed a glimpse of reverence. Synesius turned away to hide his smile. Somewhere, deep beneath the republic’s propaganda and the inquisitor’s dogma, the people of Jovinium still felt the true order of being. [ Move back.] |
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Post by kerrah on Nov 4, 2017 9:34:34 GMT
The battle so far had gone satisfyingly, but Nikaioforos did not like how things looked now. With the walls gone down, but the enemy thrown back rather than slain, things were about to turn ugly. "Halt the advance!" He sent the order to his mercenaries. "Hunker down in that wall, and prevent the enemy from retaking it! If you can provoke them into destroying their own fortifications with their cannons, that's all the better! Use what longbows we have, those damn catapults, and any mages that come over, to try to keep them at bay and clear the area around the wall!" He wished he could pace. His back ached from sitting up for this long, with no back rest in his litter. As much as he longed to throw his legs over the edge of the cushions just to feel his feet on the ground, but knew that was foolish. The scouting report from his light cavalry came back. He sent them a new order: "Advance toward the front, and await further orders." They were a distraction for now. The main cause of concern lay up ahead. Mass artillery had been the bane of the Dominion during the Eclipse campaign. As tempted as he was to order a mass charge before more enemy reinforcements could arrive, Malvern's army was in no shape for that. For now they'd need to bear the brunt of it and look for an opening. "Lord Hunter", he starterd his next message, which was to be sent south. "I humbly beg of you for the use of some of our reserves to consolidate our gains so far and to try to eliminate the enemy artillery." He paused briefly, and then continued: "Please command the rest of the Scarred King's forces forth to man the walls and relieve our mercenaries, and send the rest of our Fuma mercenary cavalry forth." While he waited for the Hunter's response to the request, he prepared his commands for the Fuma. He needed them to chase off those infantry by the wall. If he could prevent them from joining up with the artillery, that would be very useful indeed. Every sniper that died was a triumph to them. He'd add in the Fuma skirmishers to this force, too, and bolster it up.
Orders: As above. Arrows have been drawn in the map doc. [ New unit stats in my unit doc] |
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Post by HED on Nov 4, 2017 11:21:46 GMT
Denios Troklos watched as Steadfasts, struck by what seemed to be little more than pebbles from the initial cannon impact site, simply… fell apart. The first shots had barely touched the Steadfasts, yet two things were immediately clear.
First, that the cannons were ensorcelled - the Inquisitorial magic’s stain was tangible, even without the helpful banners waving in the north, proclaiming the Inquisition had arrived.
Second, that if they were caught out in the open by those cannons, they would all be dead before help could arrive.
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Denios Troklos
Denios barked an order of retreat, and the Steadfasts reversed at once. It was almost uncanny how quickly. Many would not have noticed the difference, but Denios paid attention to details. Even the most highly trained men would have had to process the orders. Not the Steadfasts. Their reaction time was inhuman, for they were inhuman. In the best of ways, Denios thought. When his forces had taken safe shelter up on the rocks, he turned to his men. “Steadfasts, fall back. Retrace our path and return to your master,” Denios If he knows not already, tell him of the cannonfire. Tell him it is the Inquistion. I think he will understand, yes?” The golems nodded in unison. “Dependable as always,” the Abstinent said, and then turned to Melusene. “You know, of course, that we must go onward.” “Of course. We’ve come this far,” Melusene nodded her head. “Lead us around east,” he ordered, and then turned to his men. “We didn’t come all this way to hunker down behind hunks of slate, did we? If Malvern is to advance, we need to stop the Inquisitions cannons from behind. Let’s move.” |
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Post by ashenmoon on Nov 5, 2017 15:23:43 GMT
turn 4: day 1, nightfall - MAPS LINK
turn ends: We 8 November
The main action had moved onto the plain to the north, ringed by mountains and bordered by a lake to the west and forested heights to the east. Though few among those present knew it, the Mason had once intended to build a city on the site, to support the Fastness ahead - but the civil war with Malvern of the Old Empire had moved on, and the region had lost its strategic importance. Sharp-eyed archaeologists might have noted the unusual flatness of the terrain - as if a great portion of a valley floor had been levelled. The Republican defenders of the Fastness simply referred to it as “the Plain”, and grew their own crops in scattered fields there.
Now cannon fire speared through the air, reaching towards the lumpy remains of the Rear Walls. Malvernian mercenaries took refuge behind the walls they had just conquered and watched as Colonel Donato Khalez signalled a halt to the forward Republican forces’ westward retreat. In the space granted to him by the Malvernians’ pause and the threat of the cannons - firing wildly at the very extent of their range - he turned his force around north - to rendezvous with the arriving Republican and Inquisitorial reinforcements.
Too late, tribal Fuma riders issued forth from the Malvernian masses - but the Republican forces were already reunited, and soon consolidated a battle line across the entire plain. The cavalry retreated from the bristling defenses, back down the Upper Valley.
The overcast skies dissipated just in time for the sun’s final rays to paint the eastern peaks pink. The first stars glinted in the firmament above.
Night fell.
*
With the Steadfasts clambering back into the cliffs behind him, Denios Troklos led the remains of his force east, along the heights and in cover as far as possible. Their path climbed out of the Plain and out of sight of the Republican force. When he judged it safe to do so, Troklos led his troops out of cover, striking towards the northern heights.
And just as he did so, two Republican companies materialized out of the eastern pass.
The mounted Snowbiters (SB), Republican garrison-engineers under captain Gioacchino, darted forth, joined by the Stonefolk Pathfinder mountaineers (PF). After all, they outnumbered the Malvernians two to one. Certainly, they could spot the great, black, sleek hulk of the panther Melusine (ML), and that the Malvernian company - The Hammer (X) - was well-equipped.
But barely had their charge begun, before it began to falter. Sniper fire peppered with uncanny precision into their lines: the Precision (PR) earned their name. As the Snowbiters got closer, more missiles streaked into their midst as The Hammer unslung their crossbows.
With several score dead in as many seconds, and the potency of their enemy hinted at, the Republicans fell back to the mountain pass.
Troklos led his force into the northern heights. Warily, they came to a vantage point: with the setting sun in his eyes, he looked west and down to where the Republican host filled the Plain. In the gathering gloom, he could spot even more reinforcements arriving from the northern pass.
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Post by HED on Nov 8, 2017 13:19:48 GMT
Troklos led his force into the northern heights. Warily, they came to a vantage point: with the setting sun in his eyes, he looked west and down to where the Republican host filled the Plain. In the gathering gloom, he could spot even more reinforcements arriving from the northern pass.
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Denios Troklos<Forward Strike Team>
Denios and his men moved slowly through the mountains, both to keep quiet and to keep safe. The sky was overcast still; the moon would not light their way. That they were so trained is the only reason they could make any time at all in the conditions, but there was a limit to what training could do to the human eye. The Lapsed were at the fore of the group, making sure the path ahead was advisable. The Hammer and Precision were skilled warriors and not exactly clumsy, but stealth was not their specialty. Melusene, on the other hand, was plenty stealthy, but too vulnerable to inquisition powers to put alone at the fore. The task thus fell to the Lapsed. They took to it without complaint; their bravery put pride in Denios’ heart. He would have joined them himself, ordinarily, but given his position of command he remained towards the back, with Dreyal’s mercenaries. The Abstinent and his troops paused behind a cluster of rocks, waiting for the Lapsed to report back. Melusene, ill at ease with waiting when an ambush was not involved, paced on the far reached of the group. Next to Denios stood a man of the Hammer. He was balding, with a silver beard and a weary face. It was the weariness of a life at war, Denios could tell, and nothing to do with their night trek through the dusty peaks. “You look right at home,” Denios said, chuckling softly. “Its not a common man who is comfortable in the cold mountain night.” “Seen plenty worse days in my time,” the man grumbled, shrugging. His voice resembled the broken stones beneath their feet. “From what I’ve heard of you, I imagine this isn’t so unfamiliar to you either.” “Yes, this does remind me of days gone by,” Denios sighed, and looked up, lost in nostalgia. He recalled breaking the lines of Sali force sieging Eukos. That had been much worse than this; he had been alone. And then there was Lunium; a very complicated time that had been. Carrana was comparatively straightforward, though it had quickly proven to be a bit of a moving target. But an Abstinent was not brought to a simple battle. Osric sighed himself. “This one time, the boys an’ me, we were hired to take out this bunch in Kendon. Nasty pieces of work, drug runners. Mortash, nectar, oldtyme, bludsnuff, the works,” Osric talked at a deliberate pace “We were a smaller group back then. They got hunkers up in this mansion, up in the mountains. Great visibility, highground, supplies, the works. We didn’t have the numbers for a siege, or the patience, so you know what we did?” He grinned. “We lit the forest. Smoked them out. They were armed to the teeth, but all they were were a bunch of crooks. Weak. All the supplies in the world won’t save you if you don’t have the spine that it takes to fight when ash is stinging at your eyes and smoke is choking you.” “Boldly done,” Denios said, nodding. “Osric,” the man said, gesturing to himself. He extended a hand. “Denios Troklos,” He said, shaking the soldier’s hand. “Name like that, you’ve come a long ways from home,” “Home’s a flexible notion.” “Not to all,” Denios replied. “But if that’s what it takes to have you on Malvern’s side, I can’t complain.” At that moment, whispers spread among the soldiers. The Lapsed had returned. Denios greeted one of their number. She told him that there was a path down the mountains, to a vantage point that could provide them with the vantage to get a better sense of the Inquisition’s movements and positions. If they were lucky, they might even be able to strike, instill chaos within their ranks. And if they were unlucky… well, Denios mused, like he and Osric had said: They’d made their way out of worse places. |
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