1-22-3
We had settled our lands and armed human warriors with weapons and armour, gifting them to the newly arrived First Ones, who would swear fealty to The Alumaani. We built then, the fires of a smiths and the saws of our mills crafting the materials for war and industry in equal measure. The days rang with the sounds of metal on metal, like the chimes of a bell marking the advent of an approaching doom, the smell of fires and tar mixed with the sweat of human bodies as they toiled to give life to our buildings which would in turn birth new creations and more advanced weaponry and trade. It was the beginning of our empire, it reflected past glories and achievements in lands similar to this, in fact, in lands different to these also. So many lands that my mind at times fails me in recounting them.
I digress...
The Dunkirks came to the lands of the Rathgar during this time of peace and cried at our gates at the slaughter of their people, their family had attempted to leave their masters and had been punished swiftly and with great malice to the point where their lands where taken and their people put to the sword. These were men of the south, the spirits of the Basturs as some would believe, but they had now arrived at our door with a story of slavery and murder which incited the tribes. We needed little to incite us for in truth we were bored, we had crafted weapons for warriors and warriors into armies yet we had yet the opportunity to test them and we burned for battle, the southern spirits were an enemy for which we could all unite and so we did. The banners were raised and the warbands sent south, to Westhold, gathering in force to liberate the Dunkirks and teach the spirits of this land of warmth and plenty the ways of the Rathgar and the grim lands of the North.
1-23-5
My name is Belial Alumaani and I lead the warriors south. The day is bright and the skies sing with the songs of larks, a fitting fanfare as we depart for the fruitful plunder of the south. We received word today that the Basturs where already in the field and had claimed a town of significance in a place called Westhold. They are mighty warriors, feared amongst many of the younger nobles for their height and strength which are legendary, matched only by their terrible verocity. The honour is mine to lead my people, I have 200 warriors and casting my eyes along their ranks they fill my heart with pride, a long column of men and women armed with spear, axe and bow and moving with such light purpose that they could be heading to a feast and not a battlefield, such bravery, such misplaced certainty, we shall see how they fair when the ground runs red with blood. I am one of four First Ones to travel to the plains of the south, I am the Son of the Leath-Ri, Yorik Alumaani and so I have the honour of leading the brothers Didius and Zenial, my nephews and Serina, my fathers earth wife, together we will bring honour to our Clan.
1-29-1
The night has moved on and in it's place the early dawn casts a bloody light upon the village we intended to raid, fitting really for that is exactly what we still have in mind, a little blood letting. In the early hours the village Elder called to us from the walls and begged for parley, offering us gifts to leave his village and move on to the next, we of course agreed on the condition that he presents them himself along with an honour guard as befits our standing, he is to show us the proper respect due.
My warriors stand by my side, resting on bows, whilst looking convincingly bored and the deep groan of the heavy wooden gate breaks our reverie as great effort is taken to push them wide and present our gifts. The elder leads 6 warriors, a pitiful guard and I tell him that I am insulted, that this is not a fitting tribute to the Rathgar. He flinches visibly at the words and begs forgiveness, telling me that it is all the warriors they have, it is enough information for me. I raise my hand as the Elder continues his advance and my own warriors draw their bows, 2 of the honour guards turn and run whilst the rest, including the elder, stop in their tracks confused and panicked. My hand swings downwards and my signal to release is followed, 50 arrows fly to their marks with a thunderous twang and my eyes lock with the elders as his body is peppered with a dozen shafts...I smile and he dies quickly.
We secured the village, it was rich with goods and silver and a good staging point for further raids. We will savage these lands and take its wealth back home for the glory of all Rathgar.
1-30-5
The raids have gone well though we have had no real warriors to fight, the first ones of this land are weak and hide behind walls of stone in their town to the east and so we move towards it in the hope of drawing them out. As we travel we see bands of armed men, moving alongside our own, but furtively and always keeping a distance between us, we cannot tell if they are Rathgar or of the south, but we intend to find out.
Southerners! Hundreds of them with First Ones in command! A battle of note at last and a chance to show the world our prowess, to earn our Great Names! The closer we have traveled to Lakehold the more war bands we have come across and the more opportunity for glory we have found along with many of the eastern clans of Rathgar and the great and mighty Bastur. We came upon Lachlan Bastur, a huge man with banners of black and gold, a bloody axe in its center which is fitting for that is how we came across him earlier this day. He stood in the center of his line with bodies strewn around him and patterns of blood coursing across his hands and face in tiny rivers. It seemed that he was outnumbered though his roar at the enemy in front of him belied such evidence as he coaxed them to advance on his small band of warriors. 5 Heavily armored men who I at first took for First Ones, but on closer inspection realised, they were only ordinary men though armed to the teeth and heavily protected, together those 6 faced 4 score of enemy soldiers lead by 2 First Ones.
We moved from the tree line and hailed our allies, joining with them so that our forces were evenly matched against those of the enemy, the first ones across the field looked unconcerned, proudly they marched across their lines, calling words of encouragement to their ranks and preparing to attack. We waited, bows ready but strings relaxed, a moment was all that was required to draw the weapon and fire it into the enemies line, we did not want to stretch the string and in doing so lose the mighty power of our bows, we waited.
A shout went up and almost 100 warriors leapt towards us, screaming their war cries as they advanced with lightening speed. I gave the signal and the arrows of my people sang once more, thundering from the bow and screeching through the ever closing gap between our ranks. Screams rang out among our lightly armoured enemy as 50 wicked points of steel caused devastation across their line. A third of their number fell, dead or dying, with many more running into the nearby woods and so we closed and butchered those that remained. The First ones commanding them turned and ran although we sent shafts towards their backs, they did little damage against such solid armour, we had carried the day but had taken no prisoners, a good day though...a red day.
1-30-6
We were arriving at the gates of Lakehold with gold in our purses and many enemies slaughtered. It had been a good time, a proving and many of our people had earned great names for their valor, the enemy was weak, they fought like children and were scattered like the wind, they cried in fear and begged for mercy but they received only our scorn followed by our blades.
How could we have feared these warriors of the south? They were women dressed in armour, running better than they fought, my thoughts drifted across our recent enemies as we travelled and a huge wall grew upon the horizon, a wall bigger than any I had seen before, a wall of stone and iron build to keep giants out.
The town of Lakehold spread before us and it's mighty walls laughed at our impotence.
We had settled our lands and armed human warriors with weapons and armour, gifting them to the newly arrived First Ones, who would swear fealty to The Alumaani. We built then, the fires of a smiths and the saws of our mills crafting the materials for war and industry in equal measure. The days rang with the sounds of metal on metal, like the chimes of a bell marking the advent of an approaching doom, the smell of fires and tar mixed with the sweat of human bodies as they toiled to give life to our buildings which would in turn birth new creations and more advanced weaponry and trade. It was the beginning of our empire, it reflected past glories and achievements in lands similar to this, in fact, in lands different to these also. So many lands that my mind at times fails me in recounting them.
I digress...
The Dunkirks came to the lands of the Rathgar during this time of peace and cried at our gates at the slaughter of their people, their family had attempted to leave their masters and had been punished swiftly and with great malice to the point where their lands where taken and their people put to the sword. These were men of the south, the spirits of the Basturs as some would believe, but they had now arrived at our door with a story of slavery and murder which incited the tribes. We needed little to incite us for in truth we were bored, we had crafted weapons for warriors and warriors into armies yet we had yet the opportunity to test them and we burned for battle, the southern spirits were an enemy for which we could all unite and so we did. The banners were raised and the warbands sent south, to Westhold, gathering in force to liberate the Dunkirks and teach the spirits of this land of warmth and plenty the ways of the Rathgar and the grim lands of the North.
1-23-5
My name is Belial Alumaani and I lead the warriors south. The day is bright and the skies sing with the songs of larks, a fitting fanfare as we depart for the fruitful plunder of the south. We received word today that the Basturs where already in the field and had claimed a town of significance in a place called Westhold. They are mighty warriors, feared amongst many of the younger nobles for their height and strength which are legendary, matched only by their terrible verocity. The honour is mine to lead my people, I have 200 warriors and casting my eyes along their ranks they fill my heart with pride, a long column of men and women armed with spear, axe and bow and moving with such light purpose that they could be heading to a feast and not a battlefield, such bravery, such misplaced certainty, we shall see how they fair when the ground runs red with blood. I am one of four First Ones to travel to the plains of the south, I am the Son of the Leath-Ri, Yorik Alumaani and so I have the honour of leading the brothers Didius and Zenial, my nephews and Serina, my fathers earth wife, together we will bring honour to our Clan.
1-29-1
The night has moved on and in it's place the early dawn casts a bloody light upon the village we intended to raid, fitting really for that is exactly what we still have in mind, a little blood letting. In the early hours the village Elder called to us from the walls and begged for parley, offering us gifts to leave his village and move on to the next, we of course agreed on the condition that he presents them himself along with an honour guard as befits our standing, he is to show us the proper respect due.
My warriors stand by my side, resting on bows, whilst looking convincingly bored and the deep groan of the heavy wooden gate breaks our reverie as great effort is taken to push them wide and present our gifts. The elder leads 6 warriors, a pitiful guard and I tell him that I am insulted, that this is not a fitting tribute to the Rathgar. He flinches visibly at the words and begs forgiveness, telling me that it is all the warriors they have, it is enough information for me. I raise my hand as the Elder continues his advance and my own warriors draw their bows, 2 of the honour guards turn and run whilst the rest, including the elder, stop in their tracks confused and panicked. My hand swings downwards and my signal to release is followed, 50 arrows fly to their marks with a thunderous twang and my eyes lock with the elders as his body is peppered with a dozen shafts...I smile and he dies quickly.
We secured the village, it was rich with goods and silver and a good staging point for further raids. We will savage these lands and take its wealth back home for the glory of all Rathgar.
1-30-5
The raids have gone well though we have had no real warriors to fight, the first ones of this land are weak and hide behind walls of stone in their town to the east and so we move towards it in the hope of drawing them out. As we travel we see bands of armed men, moving alongside our own, but furtively and always keeping a distance between us, we cannot tell if they are Rathgar or of the south, but we intend to find out.
Southerners! Hundreds of them with First Ones in command! A battle of note at last and a chance to show the world our prowess, to earn our Great Names! The closer we have traveled to Lakehold the more war bands we have come across and the more opportunity for glory we have found along with many of the eastern clans of Rathgar and the great and mighty Bastur. We came upon Lachlan Bastur, a huge man with banners of black and gold, a bloody axe in its center which is fitting for that is how we came across him earlier this day. He stood in the center of his line with bodies strewn around him and patterns of blood coursing across his hands and face in tiny rivers. It seemed that he was outnumbered though his roar at the enemy in front of him belied such evidence as he coaxed them to advance on his small band of warriors. 5 Heavily armored men who I at first took for First Ones, but on closer inspection realised, they were only ordinary men though armed to the teeth and heavily protected, together those 6 faced 4 score of enemy soldiers lead by 2 First Ones.
We moved from the tree line and hailed our allies, joining with them so that our forces were evenly matched against those of the enemy, the first ones across the field looked unconcerned, proudly they marched across their lines, calling words of encouragement to their ranks and preparing to attack. We waited, bows ready but strings relaxed, a moment was all that was required to draw the weapon and fire it into the enemies line, we did not want to stretch the string and in doing so lose the mighty power of our bows, we waited.
A shout went up and almost 100 warriors leapt towards us, screaming their war cries as they advanced with lightening speed. I gave the signal and the arrows of my people sang once more, thundering from the bow and screeching through the ever closing gap between our ranks. Screams rang out among our lightly armoured enemy as 50 wicked points of steel caused devastation across their line. A third of their number fell, dead or dying, with many more running into the nearby woods and so we closed and butchered those that remained. The First ones commanding them turned and ran although we sent shafts towards their backs, they did little damage against such solid armour, we had carried the day but had taken no prisoners, a good day though...a red day.
1-30-6
We were arriving at the gates of Lakehold with gold in our purses and many enemies slaughtered. It had been a good time, a proving and many of our people had earned great names for their valor, the enemy was weak, they fought like children and were scattered like the wind, they cried in fear and begged for mercy but they received only our scorn followed by our blades.
How could we have feared these warriors of the south? They were women dressed in armour, running better than they fought, my thoughts drifted across our recent enemies as we travelled and a huge wall grew upon the horizon, a wall bigger than any I had seen before, a wall of stone and iron build to keep giants out.
The town of Lakehold spread before us and it's mighty walls laughed at our impotence.