Atulon's Pass (Full)(Started!)

[Sporky111]

Orson clenched his teeth during their first charge, deflecting and shoving attackers with his shielded left arm and lunging out on his right side with his sword. He hunched his shoulders up and ducked his head as he rode through the crowded line, every strike threatening to knock his body out of his saddle. This is what I'm here for. he told himself, striking another sword aside and driving his blade into the side of the man's chest. Blood sprayed out of the wound as the blade punctured his lung and his last breath rushed out. This is for my family.

He turned as his horse kept moving, then tore the blade out and swung around the other direction. His turn connected his shield with another's axe, pushed it aside, then brought his sword down on the side of his head, shearing through the leather cap and then flesh. The rider fell off his steed away from Orson, into the churning mess of blood and snow and hooves below.

 

[Shionarco]

Elliara had went off with the other villagers and Weiss had quickly but reluctantly left and joined the battle........

Elliara distanced herself from the other villagers so that no one really noticed it was her but she stayed close enough so that she wouldn't get lost. She was curious as to how the battle was going but she did not want to get too close and risk getting attacked somehow so she decided to just listen closely to the fight hoping maybe she could tell what was going on some how......

~~~

Weiss just circled around one of the enemies for awhwile the enemy soldier seemed confused as to what he was doing, *Sigh* "Why must we kill?"As soon as Weiss spoke the enemy charged him and nearly cleaved his head off, but Weiss barely dodged it and he could feel the enemy's sword swing past his face. "So that's how it has to be eh?"

The man charged him again, this time Weiss was ready for him, when the man swung his sword Weiss dodged it swiftly then slammed the broad end of his sword into the man's face causing him to go flying from his horse to the ground directly in front of Weiss."Do I have to kill you?"

The man said nothing he just glared back at Weiss with rage in his eyes and started to reach for his sword...before he could reach his sword Weiss quickly charged his horse forward, crushing the enemy to death. *Sigh* "I gave you a chance...such a waste of life" Then Weiss relizes something wet on his face. Did that sword actually hit me? . Weiss reaches up to his face and wipes it off. not blood...tears... Weiss hears galloping coming at him from behind and turns to look...another enemy charging him...*Sigh*

~~~

Elliara listend to the battle raging on intenly as if she could really figure out what was going on....she thought she was listening because she enjoyed hearing the screams of the dieing men and such....but really she knew deep down that she was worried about her big brother....the sweet little girl was still in their just buried deep beneath her pain and craziness.

 

[Quad08]

"Finally some action!"

Laughing loudly, Samuel leapt into the midst of the battle, his warhammer out and swinging through the air with ease.

He caught one of the attackers in the face with the initial blow and another as he pivoted around, allowing the momentum of the hammer to follow through into the next warrior. Neither looked like they were going to get up as blood began to pool around there bodies.

Samuel was already on the move though, making his way through the carnage, looking for his commander. He may be a heavy weapons fighter but he knew how to move in his heavy armor.

One of the attackers seemed to pick Samuel out for an old veteran who couldn't fight, and appeared behind Samuel's field of vision, knocking the older man over with a laugh. Cursing his foolishness, Samuel quickly rolled over as the attacker brought club down where Samuel once was. Lashing out with an armored boot, Samuel caught the man by surprise, making him stumble as Samuel quickly got to his feet and punched the man in the stomach before picking up his warhammer and finishing the job.

"Rinus!"

He called out as another attacker charged him

"Where the hell are ya man?!"

 

[Nukey]

Dasin Delhar's eyes lit with immense passion as he observed the savage warriors engage his unit in combat, a twisted, almost demonic grin dancing on his thin lips as the battle raged on, with him separate from the main group, intentionally riding on his own. He was not, however, directly in the fray, as he rode along the treeline and back a few dozen yards as to pick off any of the attackers that had managed to slip by the main group. His crossbow was clenched tightly in his left hand, with his right hand on his belt, prepared to grasp one of the miniature axes that danged loosely from his side. He let out a loud chuckle as one man, a large brute with scruffy brown hair and a large club in his hands, became visible, still charging despite having dodged the mainline.

Dasin's finger swiftly pulled back on the hair trigger, launching the iron bolt forward at tremendous speed and into the tan flesh of his enemy. The horse had moved to quickly past the man he had just hit, but judging by the blood curdling scream it was clear that he had hit the target, much to his satisfaction. Another chuckled escaped his lungs, this one far louder, as more of savage foes poured in from cracks in the cavalry line. However, this time the good majority of them were limping, clenching ever bleeding wounds and broken limbs, slowly sauntering a few feet before collapsing into the thick snow bellow him. They would be dead soon enough, but it didn't matter to him, he wanted to make sure.

Dasin slowed his horse to a sudden halt and dismounted. He grabbed an axe from his belt, slowly walking towards the fallen warriors, and brought the weapon down into their bloated forms one by one. None of the corpses were spared. Whether they were dead or not, he didn't care, an hacked into them with a malicious smile on his face all the same. A few of the living ones let out screams as the cold steel burrowed into their warm flesh, spilling their crimson blood onto the pure white field around them, with terrified eyes glazing over as the life drained from them in mere milliseconds. For a moment, a mere, insignificant moment, Dasin felt but an ounce of pity, but it was soon expunged as he felt a hand grasp his leg and shake him out of it. He brought the weapon without a second thought, crushing through the limb with ease and then walking away as the man bled to death, smiling underneath his helmet as he continued to proceed as he had been previously.

 

[Time Travelling Toaster]

Spoiler: OOC

This is the pike that Dek is using, just to clear any confusion >.>

Spoiler

"Fools," Dek mutters under his breath, "meaningless, but if not us, then the civilians. We're at least trained for this."

He lashes out with the pike, a violent stab at the first foe in his range. Catching him in the side, ripping a small gash which is opened further with the following spike on the side, leaving a vicious hole in the man. He falls screaming from his mount, only to be trampled by the raging battle at his side.

Dek pulls his horse to a stop, dismounting swiftly, switching his pike into a two handed fighting form. A thin man charges at Dek, his thin blade raised high, a ragged battle cry tearing from his throat.

A quick swipe with the cutting edge of the pike stops his battle cry as it slams into his throat. A frown creeps onto Dek's face as the man gargles his last breaths.

"Battle is not glorious, nor is death..." he sighs before returning to the fray.

 

[Yorgmiester]

Trees and rocks surrounded the villagers as they fled into the highlands, the rugged terrain cutting of their view of the battle below. Shilas knew the way, but that did not alleviate the feeling of being lost in a strange land. The eerie gray and white shapes of jagged stones and rotten pines darted out from every side, increasing their panic as they ran. It was all Dalder could do to keep them all under control.

At the far back of the line, Buyir was worried. He constantly glanced back along their trail, his look full of concern.

"I must see what is happening." he muttered to Seiben, although in truth the statement was mostly to justify his own actions. Breaking away from the group suddenly, he galloped his horse up the rise to their left, into the wind and driving snow. Some of the villagers looked at him in alarm, some halted in fear of what was happening; Seiben bid them keep going, and turned towards his comrade.

"We hafta go!" he yelled to Buyir through the blizzard, despite his own concerns for the soldiers below. The man on the hill was silent upon his horse, staring down into the valley. With a grimace of frustration, Seiben spurred his horse, and was about to climb the hill himself, when Buyir suddenly whirled his steed around and came charging back down.

"They need us!" Buyir screamed almost hysterically, a fire in his eyes. "The line is broken and the archers are being ridden down!"

Seiben was speechless as the crazed man barreled passed him and back the way they had come, down towards the battle. He looked to his right, at the villagers who were swiftly disappearing into the fog, and then to his left, at his brother in arms who charged fearlessly into the bloodshed far below.

"Gods damn it all." He drew a simple silver necklace out of his armor and kissed it, then turned and galloped down the hill after Buyir.

~~​

The battle had finally reached that confusing and chaotic stage that most battle's went through during their final minutes. Enemies ran amok, some unhorsed and some still riding; allies cut down assailants left and right; the formation which had held for the most part true was now disintegrated in a swirling wash of flying blood and steel. The main body of the fight was an utter maelstrom of fevered combat.

So it was from Rinus' perspective. Luckily he had managed to remain mounted, and so his view was still high. He knew that something had happened; the line had faltered somewhere, and he could see a great many enemies north of the battle proper, where the archers would be; but he could do nothing about that yet. Hell, he could hardly even organize a group of men in this hell.

Amid the splintering of bones and the rending of flesh he heard his name called out. Wheeling his horse about, he spied Samuel, his armored head bobbing about in the fray and his war-hammer flying to and fro, it's crushing tip painted red.

"Here!" Rinus yelled, raising his sword high for the soldier to see. He waited several seconds and then lowered it once more to parry a sword stroke aimed at his steed's side. The horse whirled around and kicked the assailant in the face as Rinus lifted his blade once more. This time Samuel made eye contact, and Rinus offered a dry, blood-caked smile, then returned to fighting.

~~​

At some point Krin had been dismounted, he wasn't sure when. Whatever had happened, it had left a huge dent in his shield and a nasty pain in his right leg. The adrenaline of battle had obviously carried him through it on instinct; he cold vaguely remember rolling and seeing lots of hooves near his face. Now, thankfully, there were less pummeling horse torsos and more crazed men on foot flinging clubs wildly about, which was much to Krin's preference.

The air in front of him was painted red for a moment as his flail connected with yet another foe, the brutal metal spikes tearing apart the man's face and then continuing onward in a wide spiral around Krin's head, finally coming back to strike the enemy once more. Krin grinned in feral, blood-fueled delight as the man fell backwards into the gore around them.

A blade glanced off of his shield, and he spun to his left, the his flail catching the perpetrator's arm as it came down from it's strike. There was a crack of bone and a scream, cut off by the ball of spikes coming down solidly on top of the enemies' head. Blood splattered with a metallic sound off of Krin's chest and arm.

Planting his foot against the chest, Krin yanked the flail out and turned to gaze around him. A moment of reprieve granted him opportunity to survey his surroundings; he saw nobody. Nobody on his side, at least.

The galloping of hooves behind him alerted Krin to an impending attack, and he whirled about, side-stepping the rider just in time and lashing out with his shield. The edge caught on his enemy's leg and twisted him in the saddle. The man reigned his horse in a desperate attempt to remain mounted, but that was all Krin needed. The mighty flail once again traced an arch through the air, coming down heavily into the small of the rider's back with a sickening crackle of breaking bones.

~~​

Ravius and Lera had managed to retreat back to where Felon stood, and now the three bravely fended off the oncoming enemy with bow and steel. There were many of them, however, and only a few of the defenders, and Raviius was the only one with arrows left to fire. Lera was certain that they were lost, whatever the outcome of the battle was. She knew not where Aryana had gone, nor Yan; hopefully they were still alive.

She grimaced in disgust as yet another enemy warrior slid off of her blade, and glanced across the bodies at Felon.

Instantly her heart leaped into her throat.

Felon was occupied parrying the blows of two assailants, one of whom he was just now dispatching, while behind him and to his left came an enemy rider, javelin poised to throw. Even as Felon beheaded his first adversary and spun to meet the blade of the other, the galloping danger was bearing down upon him, almost within range.

Suddenly and abruptly appeared Buyir, axe in hand and lightning in his eyes, galloping down the hill towards them. Seiben was just yards behind him.

With a blood-curling battle cry, Buyir leaped from his saddle, tackling the enemy rider off of his horse and into the blood-stained snow. The javelin was rendered useless as the two rolled several times and then came up in a grapple. Buyir delievered a swift punch to the man's jaw and then pushed him away, rising up and bring his axe down hard into the man's neck.

 

[Sporky111]

As the battle devolved into chaos, Orson quickly found himself a target as he became one of the few people still mounted. Several dents and cuts now decorated the armor of his legs, as well as the spattering of many mens' blood, including his own.

He turned his horse, catching a sword on his shield and driving it down on the assailant's shoulder before driving his mount over top of him.

Turning again, a man stabbed a pike into his horses shoulder. Orson's mount cried out and reared, kicking at the man. He ducked away and for a moment Orson lost sight of him, then his horse lowered and the soldier's eyes widened as he saw the tip of a spear lunging towards him.

The man stood almost under the horse, crouched in the deep snow with the pike braced against the ground. As the horse feel to its four hooves, he angled the point of the blade towards it's rider.

Orson's weight fell upon the blade, forcing it under a plate of his armor and into his gut. As the cold metal plunged into his flesh, the edge ground and stopped in his thick armor. The wooden shaft splintered and broke, driving the bottom half into the leg of Orson's mount.

The soldier slumped forward, blood pouring onto the saddle as his steed took off with him.

 

[Shapsters]

A particularly strong and bitter wind blew, it cleared the air of the snow temporarily and revealed to Aryana that there was a group of soldiers headed her way. Five or so enemies were quickly advancing upon her position, clearly recognizing there was an archer in the tree. She strung another arrow in her bow and fired, questioning why after the arrow was released. The combination of a weaker string, shorter arrow and strong wind meant the chances of her shot hitting were low, and she was right. The arrow whizzed past one of the soldiers heads as they rode toward Aryana, loading her bow once more she fired again. They were now the perfect distance away, the arrow flew threw the air and struck into one of the men's neck, crimson blood squirted onto his companion's face and he dropped off his horse to the ground, not even having enough time to clutch his neck he lay on the ground staining the snow.

By this time Aryana was halfway down the tree, she needed to be just the right height, high enough so she would still have the upper ground, yet low enough that she would not hurt herself when she jumped. By the time she had the correct spot, the tree was surrounded by soldiers, they angrily yelled at her and banged their weapons against the tree. She loaded her bow once more, securing her footing and spitting out spare pine needles in her mouth she faced her back to the open snow. Exhaling the air in her lungs she leapt, suddenly bursting from the tree, her legs pointed back at the tree and her bow pointed in front of her face. Immediately before landing in the snow she fired her arrow, it stuck into one of the soldier's dark eye, he howled in pain and fell of his horse, his comrades now flung into action and raced toward the woman who had already down a clean roll and was standing back on her feet, loading yet another arrow and running slightly to the east.

 

[The Hairminator]

Yan felt hot, despite the coldness and howling wind around him. He rushed through the snow, his adrenaline pounding. A hundred meters or so infront of him stood Aryana, facing the mounted enemies who were quickly approaching her position position. Yan saw with his inner eye how Aryana missed with the arrow she had prepared, and how she was cut down by the dark skinned easterners.

He couldn't let that happen. This battle had already cost him Vin, one of the two things he loved. He would not loose the other. Wait, what? He loved her now? When did that happen?. Yan didn't know, but at the moment it felt like everything depended on keeping Aryana alive.

Thankfully, her arrow hit its target, and the man fell to the ground. Yan, when close enough, threw his dagger at one of the passing easterners, riding last of the three. Amazingly enough, it hit, and plowed into the man's side. He remained lifeless in the saddle for a few seconds before falling off. Now there was only one left, however, but he almost reached his target.

 

[Shapsters]

Aryana watched in awe as Yan charged toward her assailants, she could see a fire in his usually joyful and almost youthful eyes, a fire of which the likes she has never seen before. He had quickly brought down two of the men attacking her and was now charging toward the other, Aryana wondered where his beloved Vin was and thought the worst. She paused for a moment, a slight smile crept on her face as she thought of what was going through his mind, he was running at an enemy soldier unarmed, just to save her? Did he feel stronger about her than she originally thought?

Her smile disappeared as she ran a particularly nasty word through her head once more, 'unarmed'. The enemy soldier was now running directly at Yan and neither of them seemed to be inclined to stop. What was Yan expecting to do, attack the man with his passion? More than likely the man who he planned to attack would just jump off his horse and smash right into Yan, leaving him with no defence, or attack. She needed to do something.

Aryana leapt into action, she began running as fast as she could toward the two men, loading an arrow into her short bow she needed to get close enough to make the shot. She would either make the shot and kill the man, or Yan himself would be killed. Almost hovering over the thick snow she tried to catch up to the horse, the large powerful beast ploughed through the snow as it charged toward the person who caused her so much confusion, angst and worry, yet made her happier than anything else in the world.

She was out of time, the man was no more than 15 feet away from Yan, if she didn't make the shot now it would be too late. Aryana pulled the bow back, took a deep breath and released, praying to a god she didn't believe in that the arrow would make the target. Suddenly loosing her footing, Aryana fell into the snow, her face buried into the white powder and her senses completely blacked out

 

[Yorgmiester]

After offering Felon a quick nod and smile, Buyir turned and charged off towards the nearest enemy, axe held high above his head. Nearby galloped his horse, dashing about and startling the other steeds, running close to them and biting at their legs. Seiben galloped along the outside line of enemies closest to the archers, cutting them down from behind as he passed. His cutlass sliced effortlessly across their back and necks, tearing deep wounds in man and horse alike.

Coming to the end of the group, Seiben tugged on the reigns and swiveled his horse around, preparing for another charge. Just then, as he turned his un-shielded side towards the south, came an arrow, guided by some cruel providence. The projectile hit him in the side, right at a link in his armor, and went deep, piercing through cloth, leather and flesh.

Seiben lurched to the side and gasped as the arrow struck, losing balance and leaning dangerously over the side of his saddle. Even as he struggled to regain the seat, a second arrow came, and struck Seiben's horse in the neck. The beast screamed and bucked, throwing it's rider to the snow, then collapsed.

~~​

His next victim's blade sliced the air right in front of Krin's face, scratching his helmet with an awful grating noise. At the same time, his flail was crushing the man's left shoulder. Krin grinned as his enemy howled in pain, then raised his shield and brought it down hard on the man's head. The body crumpled to the ground.

All around him were enemies, he could see nobody from the unit, nobody that he knew. Only hostility and fear showed themselves. He thought he had been working his way towards the edge of the fight, but it seemed the opposite was true. He had neither seen nor heard a friendly face or voice for what seemed like hours.

[small]"Rinus! Where the hell are ya, man?!"[/small]

Krin swirled around and tried to determine the direction of Samuel's voice, but had to instantly defend against another attack. An unevenly spiked club arched through the air towards his face; it met his shield in a loud, jarringly metallic impact, and then met it again. Crouching down and swinging the flail blindly, he caught the feet of his attacker and sent the warrior to the ground, then lowered his shield to finish the man off.

He hastily brought the protection right back up, however, and winced, bracing himself, as there was no time to dodge the massive spear that was plowing into him, held firm by a charging rider.

The impact was incredible, like a grizzly bear landing on top of him. He was thrown backwards and downwards, hitting the ground hard as the rider galloped past him. A sharp agony shot through his left side, and he was sure that he had been impaled.

Hastily getting to his feet despite the pain, he quickly assessed the situation and found, to his relief, that he had not been skewered by the spear. It had, however, punched a hole clean through his shield, tearing apart the many layers of metal he had so relentlessly pieced together. The pain he felt was from the tip of the weapon ramming into his chest armor and bruising his ribs.

With a tinge of regret he tossed aside the now ruined shield. It would be of no use to him right now, stuck on a giant spear, as he had no time to remove it. Already another weapon was barreling towards him, and required attention.

~~​

Seiben groaned in pain as he attempted to get to his feet. The pain in his right side was unbearable, like a rod had been shoved into his stomach. He had suffered wounds, to be sure, but he had never been shot, at least not like this. Reaching his left hand to the wound, he touched the arrow, and then instantly regretted doing so.

Wincing as more pain shot through his ribs and insides, Seiben slowly and shakily rose to his feet, stumbled a few paces, and then fell to his knees. In front of him at about tewenty yards were the archers, crouched behind a wall of bodies, and Felon was yelling something at him...

Seiben turned suddenly at the sound of sprinting footsteps, his eyes widening as he saw the enemy soldiers rushing towards him. Grabbing his blade out of the snow, Seben jumped up and backpedaled several paces, parrying the man's blows weakly for several rounds before finally bringing his cutlass down on the assailant's wrist. There was a crack, and the man let out a muffled yell, halting his advance and drawing out a long dagger with his good hand.

Seiben backed up several more steps and hurled his sword into his enemies' chest, then collapsed into the snow once more.

 

[Lost In The Void]

"No!" Felon cried, as Seiben hit the ground again. These men had saved his life, he would do the same, no matter if he was taken to the Void himself. Feeling renewed vigure and strength through the adreniline surging through his body, he ran at the soldiers, a battle cry escaping his lips. He dodged the first thrust by a soldier, bringing the blade harshly down into the base of his neck, severing it clean. He parried a couple more slashes by another brute, before spinning into the base of a sword handle, dished out by the large man. Felon hit the ground, feeling that his nose was indeed broken. There was no time to dwell on it though, as the man screamed and swung at Felon's exposed body. Felon rolled to safety, though tragically away from the sword he was using. He struggled to his feet weaponless. Diving to one side he dodged another wild swing by the man and drew his one knife from its sheath. This lone hunting blade was his safety right now.

 

[The Hairminator]

Yan noticed the arrow coming, and so did the man so hastily riding towards him. The swishing sound had alerted him, and he was leaning forward in the saddle to become as small a target as possible. The arrow passed over his head, and Yan himself had to sidestep to avoid being hit by the stray projectile.

That's was it. Yan knew he was going to die. He felt no remorse, however, he had done what he could to save her. If the gods did excist he hoped they would accept him.

Yan was so caught up in his own thoughts, that when the rider finally came close enough he barely made an effor to avoid the blow. That's what saved him. The easterner had been distracted by Aryana's arrow, and when he finally had looked up to see Yan's unseeing gaze, displaying hopelessnes and no intention to move, he imagined he would be an easy target. But Yan did move, and the blow had been miscalculated. The blade struck Yan's shoulder, rather than his neck, as his assailant had intended, but his blood colored the white snow red nonetheless.

Clasping at his arm, Yan saw his enemy jump off his horse and come towards him on foot. The man was armed with a short curved single-side bladed sword, but it did look sharp enough for its intended purpouse. As the man approached him, Yan tested his right arm. He could still use it to some degree, but it wouldn't help him much in a fight. The pain and the new adrenline it brought, had given him a new and very pressing wish to live, however, and he had no intent on dying.

The man charging was almost a head shorter than Yan, yet had a more massive build, and looked much stronger. Under other circumstances Yan could have easily outran him, but as of now he would barely have time to turn around before the man would be upon him. Instead, Yan gave off a loud yell, and caught the easterner off-guard as he made a low leap for his legs. As the man stopped, the sword in his hand did not. After he lost his grip it landed in the snow a few yards away. Not long, but impossible to reach during these circumstances.

At the beginning of the fight Yan had the upperhand, but his opponent made a come back, as soon as the intial surprise had worn off. Yan's punches had apparently no effect on the man, and he soon found himself being locked in a stranglehold, forced down against the ground, feeling how his mind became more dizzy for every second that passed, and how he had less and less control over his limbs. Just as Yan was about to slip into unconciousness the man froze up, and his grip loosened. Then he simply fell down in the snow, revealing the feathered arrow buried in his back.

Aryana approached him, still holding her bow and having snow covering her hair and armor, her cheeks blushing red from the cold. In Yan's eyes she looked more beautiful than ever. As she helped him up, tears started to build up in his eyes. Tears of relief, tears of joy, tears of hopelessness. He kissed her, still holding on to her arm from when she helped him up, pulling her close.

Not far away from them, the battle was still very much raging on.

 

[Shapsters]

Aryana gray eyes widened as Yan kissed her, he pulled her close and she could see the ongoing battle behind his neck. She thought of the lives being lost right now as they were doing this. She thought of the anger Rinus, their faithful leader would feel if he new what they were doing as the battle raged on. She thought of the very ridiculousness of kissing in the middle of the snowy battle.

Then she thought of Yan. The passion in his eyes as he rushed toward Aryana to save her life. The tears streaming down his cheeks as she pulled him up. The tender kiss he had planted her her full lips.

Aryana closed her eyes and kissed Yan back, the man who had recently caused her so much angst and confusion had now brought her such joy. The kiss was long, passionate and meaningful. The loud roars of the battle behind them no longer existed, it was just Aryana and Yan, embracing for the first time. Pulling away and placing her hands on Yan's face, Aryana realized that she too was crying, a content smile crept upon her face as the salty tears streamed onto her lips. She leaned her head on his shoulder and closed her eyes, the two bodies were very close and it seemed neither of them could feel the cold,

"Looks like you hurt your arm." she whispered sheepishly, her forehead touching Yan's warm neck. Her smile widened showing a row of white, straight teeth, "Trying to impress me are you?"

She half chuckled, half lightly sobbed, swallowing the large lump in her throat. Aryana was no longer confused about the way she felt.

 

[Yorgmiester]

Blood splattered across Otlina's face and helmet as she drove her blade into her enemy's chest and then pulled it out, her teeth bared at the sound of sliding flesh and the vibrations against the metal as it tugged on sinew and bone. She bashed the man with her shield to finish him off, then paused to catch her breath, gazing around the battlefield.

She had strayed a little from the battle proper, to the west and north. Where she stood now was a wide open field littered with bodies and lone, running figures. The one she had just slain was the only one within range of her, and so she had a chance to more carefully assess the situati- what the hell?

A ways off, near the tree-line, stood Aryana and Yan, their lips locked in a very public display of affection.

In the middle of a fucking battle! She thought with a scowl, her face turning hot. She caught herself and turned away in embarrassment, suddenly realizing that her anger might be more than just concern for the success of their fight. She couldn't be sure, but...

With a frustrated glower she stalked off in the other direction, back towards the heavy fighting.

~~​

Enemies all around, swords flying, spears stabbing, clubs mauling. Sweat poured from Krin's body, and blood caked his armor. His flail sung through the air, rending flesh and crushing bone. He grimaced in pain as he took hit after hit, his body bruised and cut. Onward he fought, into the heart of the battle, alone.

A huge man appeared in front of him, raising a mighty and cruel-looking battleaxe high into the air. The man was even bigger than Krin himself. Krin threw up the small wooden shield he had pilfered off of a dead soldier, but it was not strong enough. The impact shattered the small protection, and pain shot through Krin's arm.

"Damnit..." he cursed, backing away and readying his flail. The big man grinned at him, hefting the axe and rushing forwards once again. Krin stepped to the side and attempted to hit his adversary from the right, but another warrior barreled into him, sending them both to the ground. Krin cursed and flung the smaller man off of him, then spun violently to the side to avoid the axe-wielder's next blow, which sunk deep into the bloody earth with a sickening sound.

Leaping back to his feet, Krin slung the flail at his enemy's head. The massive brute threw up his arm and caught the chain, then pulled it to the side and out of Krin's grasp. A seond later his massive fist was plowing into Krin's head.

The soldier saw stars as he reeled backwards, his face numb and his helmet askew. Tripping over a body, he fell, down into the sludge and gore. Dead faces rose to meet him, the souls of the fallen crying out to him. A massive shadow fell over his vision; the brute, with it's axe held high for the killing blow.

Krin's fingers touched steel, and he grasped the sword that lay next to him, rising up from the ground as the axe came down to meet him. He pulled his body forwards, curling to avoid the axe's blade and grinding his teeth in desperation; it scraped the top of his helmet, pulling the item clean off of his head but leaving him unscathed. The blade in his hand plunged into the brute's chest as Krin leaped into him, using his weight to push the huge many backwards and down. The two hit the ground like a mountain of stones, as Krin pushed his weapon upwards, into his fallen enemy's neck. The brute gasped for a moment, struggling to breath, and then went limp. Krin breathed a heavy sigh of relief.

There was a sudden, sharp sensation in his torso, and he looked downwards, his eyes falling onto the tip of of a blade which was protruding from his chest.

Time seemed to slow as the realization dawned on him. His heart beat heavy in his head as the pain suddenly came, washing through him like a wave. His amrs seized, his muscles contracted, his insides burned as blood gushed from the wound. His eyes gazed in horror at the weapon which had so suddenly and with such uncaring abandon spelled his doom. For several long moments he was frozen in denial and horror, before his eyes closed, and he took a deep breath; the last one he could before his lungs collapsed on themselves.

Swirling around, he drove his fist into the face of the man who has stabbed him. Even as that man fell another came, and another. Clubs struck him, blades pierced him, but onward he charged. His heart slowed but still he swung, his muscles weakened but still he pushed. His body shook as he fell to the ground, plunging a dagger into the throat of an enemy. A spear ripped into his back, a sword sliced his side. His eyes gazed defiantly ahead, even as the life rushed from him.

In came a blood-covered blade, slicing through the air and rushing to meet his throat. He raised his eyes to the sky.

There Krinilik Isthana died, alone, amid the blood of his enemies. His torn and headless body joined the sea of unnamed corpses soon to be concealed by the snow.

 

[The Hairminator]

Yan took his time to answer her statement, he wanted this moment to last for as long as it could, yet he knew there was a battle where they were needed. Somehow, however, it all felt far away, like it was a fairly important matter, but nothing that really concerned him, nor the person in his arms.

"Heh, You know how it is" Yan sniffled, leaning his head on hers, "Always trying to impress the ladies."

The pain in his arm had been numbed by adrenaline and then various other hormones up until now, but when he had started thinking about the wound it made itself known yet again. Even though Yan did everything he could not to let it, it brought him back to the grim reality surrounding them at the moment, and that they did have a duty to fulfill.

"Maybe we should wait until this is finished?" he whispered into her ear with a pained vocie. He wanted to hold her more, he wanted to tell her how much he loved her, and he wanted to do more, a part of him didn't even care that they were on a battlefield. He pushed the latter thought away, for the moment, since it was hardly the time for what Yan had in mind.

"After all, we'll be lucky if Rinus lets us live after this" He said, smiling, but not without a hint of sincerity in his voice.

 

[Quad08]

Roaring at the top of his lungs, Samuel dived back into the fray. Soldiers on both sides of the fray were falling and they were quickly approaching the most critical moment in battles.

With all the yelling and charging, swinging of weapons and bloodlust raging, many warriors were going to have fatigue starting to crawl into them. Samuel knew they key was to keep moving, no matter what.

Swinging his warhammer through the air, he charged at a pair of distracted soldiers who had started looting the dead, crushing one mans skull before the other could react. The other took off running, only to be killed by one of his own. Cowardice obviously wasn't welcome in the ranks

 

[Shionarco]

Weiss readied his sword and waited for the enemy to near before he was to charge. He was ready to kill this time whether he liked it or not it was necessary to protect the innocents. Time seemed to slow down as he watched the battle going around him, it was pure chaos and he wished he never would have witnessed it. The horse was close enough now and he began to charge but then he relised that it wasn't an enemy....slumped over in his horse was Orson and he was coming right at him. I remember this man, he was the one that was talking to Elliara before.

He sheathed his sword, and quickly moved his horse forward in order to reach Orson and stop his horse before it led him into more enemies or something. As he neared Orson he noticed that a pike had impaled him and his horse, he needed help soon. Weiss calmed Orson's horse down and gets off his own mount. He grabs Orson off of his horse and puts him up on his own.

*Sigh* Weiss grabs his sword and moves over in front of Orson's horse. Poor thing, why must innocent creatures be used for the pointless battles of man? The horse was obviously suffering and would not last long, there was several gashes all over it's body and it was a miracle that it had even made it that far. "I shall put you out of your misery and hopefully you will be at peace and be able to forgive the evil and brutality of man" Weiss thrusts his blade into the eye of the horse deep into it's skull and piercing the brain, killing it nearly instantly. The horse falls over with rather loud bang as it hits the ground, Weiss then had to put his boot on the neck in order to pull his sword out. "I'm sorry".

Weiss hops back up on his horse and sits behind Orson, holding him still with one huge hand and the other holding his horse's reins. "Now lets get you out of harm's way my friend". Weiss turns his horse and starts off towards the woods trying to find a safe place to take Orson, and maybe treat his injuries if he can.

 

[Yorgmiester]

Otlina rode swiftly along the line of piled horse corpses, searching the bloody mass as the fighting started to die down around her. Presently she stopped and dismounted, climbing over several stiff hulks in order to get to her spear. Stooping low, she grabbed hold of the weapon and tugged hard, wrenching it out of it's victim with a sickening grinding noise and a gushing of frosty blood.

Her horse whinnied and Otlina looked up, her eyes catching a flicker of movement to her left. She spun in that direction, using the force of her momentum to pull the length of the spear through the frigid air. It's tip slashed gracefully across the face of her would-be attacker, severing the tendons in his jaw and stopping him dead in his tracks.

Following up the defensive maneuver with a quick downward thrust into the man's chest, Otlina's ear's pricked to the sound of more bodies moving, and she glanced about to see several other enemy soldiers leaping out of the dead around her. An ambush.

Thinking quickly, Otlina reached for her shield, lowering it just in time to reject an incoming arrow. Whirling about, she swung the spear one-handed and parried a sword, kicking the man in the leg during her first pass and then bashing him with the shield as she swiveled yet again, ducking under a club and driving the butt end of the spear into the assailants gut. Rising, she took a precious second and a half to steady her hand and hurl her spear. It sunk into the bowman's stomach several yards away as she whirled around one more time, leaping backwards to avoid a blow as she drew her sword.

A blade appeared in the neck of the enemy before her, and then disappeared. He fell with a panicked gurgling noise, and behind him stood Jutani, grinning like a gremlin. "Need rescuing, fair maiden?"

"Not hardly. Behind you."

Jutani spun around and readied his blades as another enemy charged them, this one wielding a magnificent silver flail. The strangeness of the weapon registered briefly in Jutani's mind, but was swiftly forgotten as he raised one sword to catch the blow, angling to his right to avoid the spiked ball as he plunged his other sword into the man's ribcage.

~~​

The significance of the silver flail may have been lost on the two younglings during the heat of battle, but it was not lost on Io. From the moment the man had risen up from the bodies to spring his trap, her eyes had been locked on him, and his weapon.

Now she rode up to the pair as they finished off the last of their adversaries. Halting her advance and dismounting, she nodded to each of them as she passed, then solemnly stooped and picked up the silver flail from the bloody ground where it lay. It's chain was bent, it's spikes dulled and broken, it's handle smeared with mud and carnage, yet it was unmistakable.

"Krin."

With a hint of sadness in her eyes, Io gazed at the battlefield around them, searching the bodies briefly just in case. She knew there was no way of finding where Krin now lay; the carnage was too thick and the blood too dense. His flail could have been carried from the other end of the fighting and back for all she knew.

A laden sigh escaped her lips as she turned and walked back to her horse, carrying the silver flail with her.

~~​

The battle was winding to a close. A few enemies still ran about, though now they were simply being routed and chased down by the soldiers. A small knot still held out near what was left of the archers, but they were swiftly being eradicated. Rinus was finally free to look about himself without a shield blocking half his view.

His horse breathed deeply and slowly as it trudged through the blood and snow. It's body was covered in cuts and gashes, blood and sweat not all it's own caked against it's sides. Foam pooled around it's mouth and dripped from it's open lips, it's head hung low and it's mane lain flat against it's shivering neck. Rinus did't look much better; countless scraped and gashes covered his armor, blood dripped from his left leg, and various fluids, bodily and otherwise, covered his person. Dried blood was prevalent, caking his armor and clinging to the stubble on his chin. A large gash cut across the front of his helmet, and the crest on top now ended short.

Still, Rinus was alive, and while he was alive he was still the captain of the unit, and intended on acting so. Stopping his horse in front of Yan and Aryana, he cleared his throat very loudly and shot the pair a very disapproving look, the kind that guaranteed they'd be hearing about this later. At length.

"I presume your little ceremony is nearly finished?" he barked, breaking up their reverie. Just then Io appeared next to him and silently handed him Krin's flail.

The captain's mind was instantly brought away from the minor problem he saw before him, as he took the silver flail and held it for a moment. He cast his eyes about the battlefield much as Io had, and then sighed much as she had, handing the weapon back to her. It was not Krin's death that saddened him as much as the fact that they would never find the man's body, nor know how he died. There was no doubt that he ended valiantly; and that he would be satisfied with the manner in which he passed; yet his final moments, the final impact he left on the world, would be forever unknown. Every solider eventually accepted that this kind of death may be inevitable, but that didn't mean it was an easy thing to accept.

"Let's get moving." Rinus said quietly, turning his horse around and trotting off towards the northwestern edge of the battlefield.

~~​

Buyir lifted Seiben from the snow and cursed as he saw the arrow jutting out of the man's side. The injury was bad, and Seiben was already going into shock. Blood was pouring out of the wound and soaking the snow and mud beneath.

With a heavy grunt Buyir lifted the man up and started carrying him towards his horse. Seiben was not a large man, but he wore plate armor, and so was not the easiest of burdens. Whistling loudly, Buyir got his horse to trot up to them, and then deposited his wounded comrade on the creature's saddle.

"Alright, steady there..." he muttered to the barely coherent Seiben, adjusting the man so that he leaned on the horse's neck. Satisfied that the man would not fall off, he planted one foot in the stirrup and was about to mount up himself, when he suddenly paused, his eyes darting to the north. The strange feeling of being watched had come over him again. Not so strong this time, but definitely there. For several seconds he scanned the trees and rocks and snow, but saw nothing.


"Damned blizzard..." he muttered, climbing on to his horse behind the wounded Seiben. Buyir gave the northern woods one last warning glance, and hen turned and trotted off towards the others.

 

[Sporky111]

Orson was in an advanced state of shock as he was carried away on Weiss' horse. The world around him had slowed to as standstill. His vision had darkened and tunnelled, showing brief glimpses of brown fur mixed with blinding white. No sound met his ears aside from the slow, erratic thudding of his own heart. His armor, typically heavy and constraining, had become as light and warm as a blanket in his delirium. But what kept him anchored in life was the pain; the one pain. The long shaft of metal deeply embedded in his gut, and how it shifted around his delicate insides with every movement of the horse underneath him. It kept him from totally losing consciousness and falling into the blissful oblivion that called so temptingly to him.