A Bloody Day

[_Stigwig 1510]

A BLOODY DAY

 

 

 

 

 

It was a bloody day. The sun hung crimson, painting the horizon in bright swathes of red and orange, mixing amongst each other overhead. Piles of bodies rose up about the carts and docks, armoured men lying propped up against walls. Adelmar crouched over one unfortunate man, an arrow struck through his left cheek that slammed him against the rough stones that lay behind him came loose in his hand, snapping. He sighed softly, looking behind his shoulders to where his fellow Reiters stood watching the scene of devastation, pink and white scarves pulled up over their faces. One man - Lans - pushed back the curls from his face and raised his bow, releasing a shot with ease to bring down a raven that had come too close to a wounded, still living, man.

 

It had been a bloody day.

 

---

 

 

They had been pushing out past the furthest flanks of their forces, lost beneath the thick mesh of trees that afforded only the slightest trickle of sunlight in; dappled light striking the leaves and roots that lay on the forest floor. Mongke and Reginald led, lances at the ready, as the column softly wound its way from corner to corner of the woods. Adelmar hung near the middle of the column, safety in its midst, as he nervously ran his hand over the bow cradled in his arms, arrow resting ready.

 

Suddenly they were out, sunlight flashing down onto unarmoured faces. Before them lay an army of men, exultant in the morning sun. Banners floated up above: the banners of Norland, of a dozen different lords whose spears held in tight formation. A few cavalrymen drifted behind them, too far for the column of men to see. Slowly the Reiters spread out, horses whinnying as riders spurred them into a crescent that curved almost without effort, bows and lances at the ready in an instant. They were unspotted, as of yet.

 

Ifan twisted about in his steed, facing the men. The air hung heavy with anticipation.

 

“Great heroes can be found even in the mud and rain.” He grunted, dark gaze scanning the men. “Here beneath the sun and a bright sky? They will bleed.”

 

The words were enough, yet as the soldiers turned back to glance at their enemies they saw them turn and twist themselves, banners hanging still in the wind for a moment as the world hung .still. Then, slowly, at an inexorable pace, the Norlandic army turned to face a new force. A line of glittering steel marched forwards, the combined armies of Renatus, Haense and Marna - a fist curled up and ready to smash its way through the Norlandic lines.

 

With a flick of a wrist, a drop of a banner, the horsemen charged forwards, driving towards the muddy road.

 

---

 

 

He exulted in the killing. Men stood about him, knee-high as he spun the horse about in a long circle with his knees. He had lost his bow a while ago, putting it back up onto his back and drawing forth a long spear that he used to crack the heads of any who drove too close to him. It had barely been five minutes of fighting and already he had driven a bloody swathe past the peasant levies at the back of the enemy lines. He had watched a Reiter claim first blood, cracking down on the chestplate of a wounded enemy and climbing, bloodied, up and over their corpse.

 

The dead fell before him, long staff spinning about his side as he brought a man low, snarl fading from his lips as blood spurted up over Adelmar’s tunic. With a final push he broke through the ranks, pushing out into the mass of cavalry behind; Reiters already felling the few that remained to resist their push. A few mercenaries were lying dead, their bodies broken, one hanging out of his saddle so far that his hair tickled the earth underneath.

 

He breathed deep, still exulting in the victory that appeared inevitable. A faint flicker of discomfort reminded him of the absence of Henry, normally right by his side, yet it paled in comparison to the glory that he felt as he watched cavalrymen cleave about left and right, sabres slashing through necks. His eyes traced the progress of one horseman, impossibly fast, before an arrow struck its way against him, sending him flying from the saddle of his horse and tumbling into the ground, crimson ichor flung about the sky.

 

It would forever be a bloody day.

[Vamoose 265]

Lans would find himself disheveled, an expressive grimace contorting his face, now crimson with blood. In the cold blistering rain he'd yield his comrades a heavy nod, whatever respite now maintained was only momentary. He'd rein his steed in, facing the southern roads which was a chaotic mosaic of mostly dead Norlandic men. "Let's ride." he'd exclaim, a slow trot would carry his battered form farther and farther away from the scarlet scene, the host of Reiters leaving only embers and blood in their wake.

[Narthok 10416]

(( this is beautifully written, sick job *****

[JEEGK 1367]

The reiter struck with sickness found a slick bit of joy, even though he was unable to take arms with his comrades, Arthur was happy to hear of their safe return and the ally's victory. 

[Chorale__ 2147]

Véres Draskovits paced homeward bound, and once he stepped in the door he went up to his bedroom. After doing such, he then began to remove his plate and mumbled under his breath "A bloody day" with a sigh following after as he plopped down upon his bed, quickly falling into slumber shortly after.

[Fawb 557]

Stephen de Anpalais would feel a tinge of sadness as the Canonist forces cut through the heretical mob. He certainly noticed the absence of his brother, Henry, who would have loved partaking in the slaughter. 

[TankM1A2 840]

Standing amidst the aftermath, and leaning upon his spear stood a single Reiter, Berenfroy. He sniffled, dragging the back of his wrist across his nose to wipe away some snot that trickled. For some days, he had dealt with an unforeseen cold. However, with the Norlandic forces to put to rout, he knew better than to complain. God was with us this day he assured himself. He smiled at that thought, instinctively reaching beneath his brigandine and revealing the cross that hung from his neck. Berenfroy grasped it firmly, running his clad thumb across its immaculate surface. He felt some energy renewed within him, picked up his head and scanned for his other Reiter comrades. "Drinks are on me, boys!" he shouted, padding over to another Reiter

[Archangelic 212]

 

As the Reiter men slowly piled into the keep one by one the short woman stood upon the small steps before her clinic, squinting lightly as the setting sun lingered in her eyes. Placing her hand to her brow Candra counted heads as they moved inside, ensuring she didn’t lose one of the soldiers she had grown close to. Exhaling in relief a gentle smile tugged at her lips, turning at the heel. Knowing the boys weren’t indestructible she propped open the doors of her clinic with a brick so they may wander in. Pacing up the steps Candra rolled up her sleeves, readying herself for what was to come. Finding the basin of distilled water she washed her hands thoroughly and dried them with a clean towel, chuckling to herself as she already heard heavy boots ascend the steps.

 

Candra’s merry visage almost fell as the taller Julien made his way into the doors. It was painfully obvious he didn’t want to be in the clinic either but was ordered by a captain to get his hand looked at. Motioning for him to sit upon her surgery table she grabbed a clean cloth and some boiled water, bringing it to sit next to him on the wooden stand. Her petite fingers worked around his plated gauntlet, treating his hand like precious jewelry as she didn’t want to hurt him further. Julien winced internally as she removed the leather and cloth from the larger cut on the side of his hand. Blonde brows furrowed as she inspected the wound, a good chunk was cut out of his abductor digiti minimi. Firstly Candra took the clean cloth and dipped it in the boiled water, rinsing the area of dirt and other impurities to get a better look at the wound. Using a clean spot on the same towel she grabbed her distilled alcohol made for cleaning injuries she began to further sterilize the wound. She noted his discomfort with pale blue eyes, but figured he was tough enough to ride it out. Moving away from him she grabbed her hooked medical needle, threading it slowly as she made him aware of how she was going to fix him. Leaning down she pinched the skin tightly, carefully threading his flesh to make sure no air could get in. Using a zig zag pattern to properly squeeze the wound shut, Candra finished it off with a grin at her work. However she knew fully well that he would somehow go and get it ripped out, so she grabbed a fresh roll of bandages that Brann ordered for her. Starting in the middle of his palm she slowly began to wrap the wound in order for it to be more comfortable. Candra ignored most of his comments, mostly him bragging about the numbers he slaughtered, opinions upon her body, and information she really didn’t need to hear. While the medic turned away Julien made sure to take more than a handful of candy from the bowl she offered near the front on his way out- like he always did.

 

Almost as if they had tag teamed one another Lothaire passed Julien up the steps with a simple nod of acknowledgement, stopping at the top of the stairs. He never really was one to visit with Candra unless checking the status of an objective or needing an answer due to there being some slight tension between them. He didn’t really need anything that required much work, just his lip was cut in a way to where it was bleeding heavily. Motioning him to sit upon the table or at least lean on it she washed her hands once more, making sure she got rid of impurities. Drying them with a sanitized cloth she gathered a different piece of fabric hanging up on the wall. Placing it against his lip she kept her silence, not wishing to make it anymore awkward than it already was. Finding her stache of prepared tippen root she cut and smoothed it into a gentle paste, rolling it on a bit of gauze. Neatly putting it upon his lip she instructed him to wear it half a day, then throw it into the bin as it would do its job. Nodding in thanks he left without another word, letting Candra ponder to herself as she looked at her bloodstained hands from the day. With a slow exhale her gaze turned towards her balcony where Candra heard more men piling into the yard; some already speaking of their injuries. “What a bloody day..” she murmured to herself, fingers curling as she turned to wash her hands once more.

 

Later that evening Lothaire was sure to take three to four candies when no one occupied the clinic.

[Chorale__ 2147]

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.