Springtime in Fenn

[WuHanXianShi14 0]

 

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“What kind of creature wants to live in a wasteland like this?”

 

“A desperate one, Rhathalas.”

 

Two stoic gazed mali’ame scouts stood atop a ledge overlooking the icy wastelands of Northern Ceru. It wasn’t hard to why they would question the sanity of any who wished to live there. It was cruel, harsh environment where little life could grow. Thahnium was abundant in the glaciers, and a few men had grown ill from exposure. Nevertheless, the two elves had no time to mull over their misfortunes. They quickly slipped down the ledge and back into the snowy ravine where the rest of the army camped.

 

The two scouts walked through the army camp, past various tents of different colours, emblazoned with different insignias. They passed a large group Imperial Legionaires doing drills, and Highcliffe mercenaries playing cards with Urguanite Dwarves, both of whom seemed more comfortable in the northern weather than their elven and imperial allies, who hailed from the south. Towards the end of the camp the tents became exclusively emerald green, decorated with the insignia of the tree and stag. The elves of the Dominion, armoured in their teal platemail made up the lion’s share of the allied force.

 

The two scouts walked inside the largest of the pavilions, the war tent. Inside stood the High Prince Caerme’onn, with Imperial Prince Philip Frederick Horen at his side. The two had been looking down at a map, but their gazes tilted upwards at the scouts’ entrance. The two elves bowed, then one reported.

 

“My princes, the ravine is clear all the way to the Fenn fortress. There is not a soul in sight.”

 

Artimec frowned at this, unable to be avoid being a bit skeptical.

 

“You are sure of this?”

 

Both scouts nodded.

 

The high prince murmured some words with the son of the Emperor, which ended in them both nodding. The wood elven monarch turned back to the two at the tent’s entrance, waving them off.

 

“Inform the army we continue marching.”

 

Hours later the tents had been packed. The army marched, the Dominion elves in the vanguard, the Legion holding the rear with all other auxillary forces in the middle. Artimec couldn’t help but begrudgingly admit that this snowy northern ravine was eerily beautiful. Perhaps it was the pine trees which had began sprouting up in the area. Yet everything was eerily quiet…

 

 

Spoiler

 

 

“Shadows in the treeline!”

 

The soldiers in the ravine jerked their gazes up to the trunks above, and indeed it was true. Shadows of elven figures were seen behind them, darting off. The commanders whipped into action, and the Dominion-allied army rapidly drew arms and formed into position.

 

“Make ahead! March for the high ground!”

 

The Dominionite elves charged forwards, their shields held high to deflect arrow fire. At the end of the treeline a snowy natural ramp led out of the ravine, but there awaited the full bulk of the snow elven force. Among the mali’fenn elven host stood a smattering orcish warriors, a molten eyed doomforged dwarf and some grizzled dreadlandic rebels.

 

The wood elves bellowed out their war cry to their Aspects and charged up the hill, while the Imperial legionaires fell in line alongside the mercenaries of Highcliffe and the Urguanites. Some fell to arrow fire as the climbed the hill, closing the distance between the snow elves and them. Then, the armies met.

 

A whirling melee ensued. Sirame clashed into Ivae’fenn, and men of the Empire cleaved a path through the guard of Tundrak. Screams echoed through the field. Blood stained the pure white snow. The sound of metal pierced through the air, then slowly grew quieter until one last snow elf stood, then fell. The mali’ame who had pierce his blade through his heart drew his blade out, letting the corpse fall limp into the now blood-soaked snowy field.

 

The High Prince Caerme’onn arrived on top of the hill where the bulk of the victorious army stood. He had rather unglamorously been lanced off his horse by a snow elven cavalryman and sustained a serious wound to the rib. He was being supported by two soldiers, unable to walk on his own. He groaned as he spoke.

 

“Did we get that degenerate Tundrak?”

 

“No sir, none of the corpses on the field are his.”

 

The high prince grunted, disappointed. He then looked upon his men, the bloodstained elves who had followed him into this icy hellhole to fight for the honour of their people. Each of them still standing, alive. He couldn’t help but grin. As his Sirame aid held his waist, He raised his sword triumphantly, bellowing.

 

“We have won the day! For the Empire! For the Dominion! AME!”

 

A roar erupted through the victorious army.

 

They set their tents at the base of the hill where the battle had been fought. The ensigns and el’averns of low rank tasked with piling up the dead bodies of snow elves and setting them alight in a mass-cremation. The fortress of the Princedom of Fenn lay in sight now, and it was only a matter of time.

[AGP 3169]

"Our bods are so hard," says Constantine.

[Vetren54 368]

Mattington sits in a makeshift tavern, drinking with the various men of the legion and the allied army.  He'd say, "One less thorn in our side." before downing another half-mug of ale and going on, "The snow elven fiends have shown themselves traitors to their faith and the peace of Axios by collaborating with the orcish and dreadlandic scum.  Axios will soon be at peace for soon we march on their fortress.  Ave Orenia and her allies!" The tent would fill with the cheers of the various decedents.

[seannie 7443]

Andrik narrows his eyes, sighing sharply consequently, tossing aside the paper that stated the end of the battle. Leaning back in his chair, he'd grumble, moving onto the next set of paperwork, muttering, "A stupid war, for stupid people." he'd lick his thumb, flipping the next paper, continuing his work, "I shant have none of it."

[Ioannis 1480]

Frerir Irongrinder aids the wounded soldriers from both sides, moving them to safety and treating their wounds. He then takes a deep breath.

"Elven shoits killin' each othah"

[HurferDurfer1 2979]

A Mercenary rides with the other Snow Elves along the ridgeline, raining down barbed death on the unsuspecting wood elves below, before being driven off by the over whelming legionary force.

[Thatpyrodude 2008]

Philip celebrates in the tavern, celebrating his first war by getting blackout for the first time.

[Guest]

Kairn simply tore his sword out of another carcass, finishing off the wounded after their initial charge. There was no glory in it.

[Andustar 4143]

"Not a fan of Snow elfskis myself! Still, no point it beating a bunch of frosty people who barely have enough men to put up a tent." Viktor would state hearing the outcome of the battle

[Jentos 9425]

"Took almost fifteh years... But T'snow elves came back. A few O' 'em adleast. Now that damn prince wants t'step once more on the fragile sapling that is t'snow elves? Quite sad if y'ask me." Says a mysterious old man with an annoying accent. 

[Kaelan 1918]

7 hours ago, Jentos said:

"Took almost fifteh years... But T'snow elves came back. A few O' 'em adleast. Now that damn prince wants t'step once more on the fragile sapling that is t'snow elves? Quite sad if y'ask me." Says a mysterious old man with an annoying accent. 

 

17 hours ago, Ended said:

"Not a fan of Snow elfskis myself! Still, no point it beating a bunch of frosty people who barely have enough men to put up a tent." Viktor would state hearing the outcome of the battle

 

20 hours ago, Ioannis said:

Frerir Irongrinder aids the wounded soldriers from both sides, moving them to safety and treating their wounds. He then takes a deep breath.

"Elven shoits killin' each othah"

 

20 hours ago, Preliator said:

Andrik narrows his eyes, sighing sharply consequently, tossing aside the paper that stated the end of the battle. Leaning back in his chair, he'd grumble, moving onto the next set of paperwork, muttering, "A stupid war, for stupid people." he'd lick his thumb, flipping the next paper, continuing his work, "I shant have none of it."

 

"Snow elves aren't people." Lyemar, the orange coloured 'Ame, comments while he passes by each person. 

[garentoft 9265]

Baelor, seated within the comforts of a faraway tent, snickers at the fate of his fellow 'Fenn, "Told them they should've focused on making ice cream."

 

Elsewhere, Dirk simply shrugs, "I do not appreciate warfare."