Battle of the Gorge

[Algoda 885]

Spoiler

 

 

There comes a time for every empire to fall. The nature in which it falls relies upon the capacity of which it endured. This Empire - an oppressive beast, warrants a great collapse. Its grip on the continent, its subjugation and oppression has long hindered the attempts of sovereignty within the world. It has trapped the freedom and unanimity of Axios in chains, shackled it and barred it; this empire is the great evil to this world. As with every evil, it shall not prevail.

 

The remaining free men rallied a final bastion of hope, within Kal’Omith, seat of the dwarves. Under the banner of Grand King Algoda Frostbeard and Grand Marshal Jorik Grandaxe, Snow Elves of Fenn under Aelthir Tundrak II, Orcs of Krugmar under Rex Drokon’Ugluk and Wargoth Zlazh’Lur, the bannermen of House Staunton under Alexander Staunton, The Noxians under Galdryn Frostbeard, and all soldiers from across the realm united to face the imperium. The rally was familiar, countless times has these dwed congregated within these walls, but the mood was foreign.

 

They all knew the gravity of this battle, they all knew the gravity of this war. After centuries it at once seemed that the forces of the world had finally balanced. The force had made their way to the battlefield expecting an adverse conflict, their numbers were inferior to the Empire, but numbers had long since lost their relevancy. To dismantle the beast was the unifying objective, one that the soldiers drew strength from. Live or die, they would suffer to realise their cause,

 

Jorik Grandaxe, Algoda Frostbeard and the other Commanders ordered their men to occupy the pass. “Do not let them past.” The marshal roared, forcing the troops into formation. Grunts wrought with fear held the foot of the basin, heeding the orders of their commanding officer.

A valley in a desert far secluded from the reach of Urguan or the grip of the empire; it seemed far-fetched that the fate of all of Axios lay upon its sandy gorge. They had to hold this insignificant stretch of land, the lives of their nations were dependant on the conclusion of this confrontation. And so they held, through faith and unity, against a more numerous force. As the beast threw wave upon wave of pawns against the lines of the Coalition, the Axionites held steadfast in the yoke of its armies, dispelling each advance with well planned counter attacks. Words spoken by the commanders had summoned a ferocity and desire to win, morale rose as the impetuous charges of the Empire continued to fail. Not one ran. Not one forsook the cause.

 

 

The Coalition held their ground valiantly, the forces of the oppressors soon seizing their escape, routing backwards into the refuge of the deeper valley. They fled through the pass back into the open plains in which their camp was situated, garnering what Horenites still remained to form a last stand. The Coalition occupied the mountains surrounding the plain, a squadron led by Wem raining a barrage of arrows upon the reform and throwing repetitive flanks in to their last force. Footmen lay scattered around the field, Orenian cavalry effectively picking of straggling Axionites whilst their comrades faced the wrath of the main Coalition force.

 

 

The main force advanced, clashing with the shields and spears of their foes. “Onward!” the officers screamed as their pushed through the Orenian wall, serrated steel poking through any vulnerabilities in the empire’s formation. The two columns held their own stubbornly, a long tug of war between a small patch of land. As one opportunity revealed itself and breach formed within the Orenian wall, elves, dwarves and orcs poured into the break, salt in a wound. The valah fell back, allowing for the Coalition force to route them far past their camp. Continuing their assault, archers moved forward, depositing a volley of arrows upon the scarcity of the empire’s legions.

 

The battle continued, it was within the plain of the Empire’s camp that the Emperor was surrounded, his guard pinned by the host of the Coalition. His men fell around him, a snow elven soldier, Nazdus “The Defiler” made for the Emperor, his defense obliterated. Their duel was swift, the Emperor defeated. Behind them, the warrior Wem buried his axe into High Prince Tristin of the Wood Elves. A final Orenian charge curtained their fallen ruler, pulling him safely from the conflict of the two armies.

 

 

 

 

A day written into legend, those who returned eternalised in to fable. The forces of liberation and balance had awoken, but their fight had just begun. As the soldiers travelled homeward, they rested assured that the same fortitude shown at this battle would be symbolic for their future success.

 

 

 

It has begun.

 

[Naj 545]

Jorik grins as his men execute their commands perfectly and the Orenian force was soon repelled.

 

"It is just the beginning."

 

[KeatonUnbeaten 1103]

Gared would huff and puff, having rushed here-and-there to secure allegiances from Orenian defectors.

[Raomir 1855]

A battalion of Frostbeards line up in front of Kal'Omith, the banners of their ancestors hoisted high above them. The Clan Father would step forth, thrusting his fist into the air before bellowing.

 

"ARUUU"

 

 

[Lefty 1696]

7 minutes ago, Algoda said:

 

The remaining free men; a final bastion of hope for a free world,
 

 Bastion Ireheart smiles at the mention of him

[func_Soap 410]

Alex Faelan rears his old head and dons his ancient armour as the old sack of bones holds out for all of the second wave before a blocked pommel smash to have been deflected in his direction, knocking him out. Oh well, at least no more scars!

[seannie 7443]

"A sound victory for the Coalition. The Orenian Empire has underestimated its enemies, we've broke their winning streak. Time to take this fight to their land!" huzzahs Glyswen.

[_Jandy_ 3519]

[Hiebe 2493]

Dwain ignoring his wounds, would be seen in his forge with his clansmen producing the weapons and armor for the Coalition

[Fimlin 1997]

A battalion of Grandaxes line up inside of Eichenwald, the hammers of their ancestors wielded proudly. The Clan Father would kneel onto the ground, bellowing.

 

"CATCH PHRASE!!!"

 

 

[Daisy 9740]

Moved to The Great Library. It shall be sorted into the appropriate category shortly.

 

If you feel this is a mistake, please contact myself or any FM and we'll restore it.