Distrusted, Part 2: The Wanderer

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Raithial
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Re: Distrusted, Part 2: The Wanderer

#31 Post by Raithial »

Rain in the moonlight; Spear of Mathlann

Even in the depths of night, the elves stood their ground; young prince-regent Elralior gave not an inch of the wall; though he was hopelessly outnumbered, his men battled like seadrakes. As Corsairs jumped over the battlements they were met with gleaming ithilmar spears and arrows. The turqouises and blues of their cloaks and skirts washed clean by the constant downpour; blue and pink lightning frashed across the sky, illuminating the ithilmar of the asur, and reflecting off the tempered steel of the Druchii.
A large and strong corsair jumped over the battlements, skillfully dodging the spears and heading straight for prince Elralior; he raised his handbow, a wicked tool of wood and metal, and he fired several bolts before throwing the thing off the wall. Elralior raised his shield swiftly and deflected the bolts, before thrusting his spear at the corsair. The Druchii jumped off the wall, but before he had even cleared the footing of the wall Elraliors spear severed his spine at the neck, before the prince turned around and with a wide sweep cut down several more of them. Blood soaked the wall. In the brief flashes of light from the thunder Elralior could see the reflections of the steel armours, seemingly untill the horizon; and he felt a notion of despair; though he refused to surrender to it.
Several ladders soon were raised against the walls and now the corsairs were joined by warriors of wicked armour; witch-elves clad in bare flesh and metal, sporting poisoned daggers. Executioners jumped over the battlements, wielding wickedly gleaming Driachs.
While Elraliors warriors were strong and determined, their skill was near naught against the sheer bloodlust and ferocity of the witch elves and executioners.
From the courtyard now flew arrows towards the battlements; the reserves had their bows and shot above the heads of their comrads, aiming merely for the places where the heads of their assailants popped up over the melee on the castle-wall.
At the gate, vicious Hydra's were crashing headlong into the wooden obstruction. With each time one of the beasts crashed into it, the gate creaked painfully; it's beautifull dark wood splintering further. The beasts clawed and crashed into it time and again. Suddenly a horn blew and from two small towers shot forth man's length bolts; they hit the beasts in their flanks and with a spray of blood pierced the beasts deep; severing heart, lung and spine as their did so. With a mournfull roar of agony one of the Hydra's fell down, trapping several warriors under it's large bulk.

Elralior bolted forward, thrusting his spear with elegant precision between the thick armourplates of an Executioner as he ran past. A second horn blasted over the courtyard and the Eagle Claws fired again, this time a number of smaller bolts, cutting down ladders and pinning themselves in a second Hydra. With the pressure on the wall deminishing Elralior stood atop the gateway, and soon the battle of arrows continued as the Druchii reformed for a second wave.

Next morning Horns sounded from amongst the Druchii; the second wave had begun; new ladders, crafted with barbs and hooks were raised against the walls, and while hundreds of Druchii had already fallen, a mere few dozen Asur lay dead. The gates were badly damaged, and were at the breaking point, and Elralior who had been fighting all throughout the night, stood with the men in the courtyard. The Bolthrowers are claimed the lives of four hydra's and dozens of Druchii.
Elralior's heart pounded in his throat; his head ached painfully and his limbs trembled from exhaustion; fear gripped his heart as he knew that all that lay between him and certain death were a mere one-and-a-half foot of badly damaged wood.
It suddenly occured to Elralior that he had been in this situation before; and he thought to himself; What would Rethon have done? He quickly shook his head and he turned around.
A deep rumbling crash echoed over the courtyard, and Elralior looked at his men. He sighed tiredly, and he smiled at them. "Myrlean, You have faught bravely for Rethon before, I saw you throw your spear into the horde of Druchii yesterday. Did you hit a Sorceress in the chest or was it a Witch-elf?" A small wave of laughter came from the men. "Have my spear." Elralior said, as he handed his spear to the commoner.
A bit hessitant the man accepted the spear. Another rumble, and a loud crack. "And you, mighty Cadreil. Surely your archery deserves a better bow than this." Elralior said, as he traded his bow for that of Cadreil. "I was not born in Cothique, I was not raised here, but I was sent here, on orders from my father. Most of you are Cothician, some are Eatainian, Yvressian or Chracian in blood. All of you deserve the same honour as any hero. Your bravery is undeniable!" Elralior held his common spear and bow. "Rethon told me once that the true strength of a prince is in his people. At the time I thought he meant in the disciplined force of an army, but having faught alongside you for the past time, I have come to a different conclusion; He never meant his people as the army you stand here; He meant your hearts and the strength of your minds! We might fail today to defend the castle." Another crash echoed over the courtyard. "But if we do... Let our voices be heard over not just this land, but let them hear our roar all the way to Anlec! Let them say I was there that day Cothique fell, and let them tell tales our the roar of a cothician's death to frighten their men. Let them forever remember our voices and spears and arrows!" Elraliors voice raised above the crashing sound; bolts were dropping from the gate, and the bellow of a mighty Hydra could be heard from behind the gate.
The Cothician spears all hit the floor at the same time, and each archer took his bow, and nocked an arrow. Another crashing sound the came, and with it, the gates collapsed; their once elegant figure reduced to dark wooden splinters.
The moment the Hydra set one of it's feet into the courtyard a hailstorm of arrows flew past it into the ranks of Druchii; the handles of the beast were cut down in the hailstorm and the beast itself knew not what to make now the handlers had died. Druchii Witch-elves ran into the courtyard, and were met with Ithilmar arrows, cutting deep into their flesh; they dropped like flies and not a single one came within a spears-distance of the host in the courtyard. The Hydra panicked, thrashing it's large tail in the gate-way and snapping at any who approached it. The Cothician arrows kept flying and bodies of the Druchii piled up just beyond the gate. Arrowfire was returned and several Asur fell with painfull screams.
Soon, the Druchii sent in their stronger troops; Executioners marched in, their Driachs at the ready. Arrows cut a number of them down, but soon they came within range. As one, the entire regiment ducked down, and grabbed spear and shield from the floor in front of them and beside them. Executioners made sweeping attacks, and more Asur died untill only a handfull were collected in the centre of the courtyard. Each stood bravely, as the Druchii then stopped attacking and backed out. A small opening appeared and through the gate came riding a Dreadlord, mounted on a bleak-looking Cold One. His armour was wickedly decorated with gold, and his look was cruel. He rode forward towards the group of survivors. "You've lost." Carnyle said with an arrogant smirk. "your prince was too late, and by the time he returns I'll have turned this castle to a lair for me."
From the mansion Syriscia was pulled and gathered in the centre as well, and Carnyle looked at her for a moment. "interesting..." He said with a glint of sadism in his eye. "you survived"
Syriscia looked at him with a vicious look. "if I could still use magic you'd have died here." She said.
"but you can't use your magic. I did my research; your little necklace prevents the winds from touching you." Carnyle commented. "How does it feel to be completely powerless? You could've ruled with me over these lands, but you decided to betray us."
Syriscia looked at him with disgust. "You mean before or after you tried to have me killed?"
Carnyle chuckled. "that's right, I almost forgot; I still have to pay you back, remember? ... for what you did to my hand aboard the black arc.."
Elralior stepped in front of her. "you'd die before your blow lands." His eyes flicked past the dreadlord; seeing a number of dark-cloaked figures taking place on the walls; sporting bows of supreme elegance.
The Druchii all laughed. "I'd die? Look around you, look at all my men, and look at what still survives of yours!"
"Look around you!" A familiar voice now shouted from atop the wall, and all heads turned. The clear strong voice of the Asur was heard; and as they looked, they saw a strong horse, deep brown, and with manes of oily black, clad in elegant armour, and ridden on it a young elf-prince, who's Ithilmar armour shimmered in the light of the low morning sun. His helmet was adorned with the wings of an eagle, and from under it, two deep brown eyes looked at the Dreadlord.
All around him on the wall, now stood maidens, clad in deep greens and brown leather, with bows flaming with magical light. Eagles flew over the courtyard, and swooped down, picking up the asur to carry them to safety. The maidens flaming arrows flew into the courtyard, striking down Blackguard and Executioner alike; setting them ablaze with the purity of their arrows.
The Prince Rethon rode down the ramp into the courtyard, and with a blinding speed raced towards Carnyle.
The Dreadlord swung his sword and crossed it's blade with Rethon's Spear; the clash sent sparks flying, and as the Cold One snapped at the horse, the elegant steed reared up and hit the reptilian mount in the head with it's front-legs. The reptile roared. Rethon thrust forward his spear, and rode a small circle in the courtyard, cutting down Druchii as he went, before charging headlong into Carnyle again. The Dreadlord's powerfully enchanted armour screamed as the pure speartip made a deep scratch over it's chestplate, gouging with pure blue flame. The Dreadlords mount roared in panic and backed off from the display, turning around, as all around it Druchii were envelloped in blue flame, while eagles descended still.
Rethon held up his spear, "Lecai Asur Caladh!" He shouted into the wind, and his spear erupted in the same flame as the bows of the maidens who continued to rain down their arrows from the walls.
The Prince then charged forward, his horse and body moving as one and with a strong thrust sent the dreadlord tumbling back over the tail of his mount. The Dreadlord rolled over and swung his sword towards the horse, but it turned it's rear and with a kick of it's powerfull hind legs sent the dreadlord flying once again.
Rethon turned around quickly and while Carnyle attempted to grasp for his sword, the mare stood her hoof on it, and with a sideways move hit the dreadlord away from it with her head.
As the dreadlord came to his feet he looked around for a way to escape, but everywhere his men lay either dead or captured by the maidens, or Rethon's Chracian guard or horsemen.
And so ended the Battle for the Ethanion.

Rethon held the dreadlord at speartip, disarming the dreadlord afore dismounting. The troops disarmed the dreadlord completely and undid his armour; revealing his gaunt figure, dressed in a deep purple robe. "Aren't you going to kill me?" Carnyle asked with a tone of disgust in his voice.
"I'm not the one who is going to kill you." Rethon said with a strict tone. "You will face trial according to Asur law. And if you are found guilty, you will be sentenced to death."
The guards then pulled and pushed the dreadlord into the keep, and down the stairs to a cell.
Rethon sighed for a moment. "Looks like I was still in time.." He wiped the sweat off his brow, and looked solemnly around the courtyard. "I'm terribly sorry I am so late. I will explain in a moment, but for now we must first bury the dead."
A young woman, clad in a deep green and leather came towards Rethon; holding a spear backwards. "What should we do with the prisoners?" She asked.
"Put them in the cells; they will await trial." Rethon said swiftly. "the dying come first, and then the living." she nodded and then instructed the women on their roles, for the remainer of that day, healers helped those that could be helped and Rethon diligently collected the names of the dead.
Syriscia walked towards him. "I'm glad you came." She said.
Rethon nodded for a second, as he handed her one of the nametags from the guards. "I should've come sooner..." He said with a sob in his voice. Syriscia looked at the nametag slightly confused.
"He was one of the guards of your room before I left.." Rethon sighed. "I hope Lileath has forgiven him for his youth."
Syriscia trembled painfully as she remembered the few moments of banter with him. It suddenly became so clear to her; he probably had a mother and a wife somewhere, hoping he'd come back. She bit her lip, and tears formed in her eyes, she felt asif she was about to throw up, but all that escaped her throat was a sorrowfull cry.
[img]http://i547.photobucket.com/albums/hh480/Dernaile/oacau0ek.jpg[/img]
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