Get Back

[Rig 17581]

Get Back

10th of the Grand Harvest, Year 159 of the Second Age.

Spoiler

 

 

The Aen Sov brothers stared across the field from their horses as they accompanied Captain-General Gaspard van Aert’s relief force. Multiple groups had been organized in order to dismantle the Haeseni Empire’s coalition of nations. Grisha and Meruasul stood together and disembarked from their saddles for the moment. “They outnumber us nearly two-to-one,” observed Grisha. “That’s what the scouts say anyway.” 

 

Meruasul shrugged his shoulders, “I’ve heard of worse odds. I am told the Valah army in Helena held out against vast numbers of soldiers from a castle. Let it be known then brother that the Creator of All is our castle.” 

 

Grisha paused, “But we had a castle. Breakwater and Brasca have fallen. We have no castle, are you not concerned perhaps that Acaelan is with our enemy today, brother?” Meruasul let out a chorus of prideful laughter at his brother’s words. “Acaelan? No, the Lord God is with us today, brother. He would not support the Valah colonists over His own people. We, Malin’s sons, were given guardianship of Nature.” 

 

With that Grisha allowed a somber smile to play out upon his lips, his pallid features growing joyful. For Grisha, the Elfin Ferryman formerly known as Sul, there were few people in the world that brought him as much joy as his family did. Meruasul and Grisha had trained together since they were boys. If Meruasul was Grisha’s left hand, then his brother Grisha was Meruasul’s rightmost one. They had grown up together in the glades of a village far from where they were now. Together, they joined the Ferrymen seeking fame and fortune, and to resist the imperial powers that dominated their world. 

 

Meruasul galloped away leaving Grisha to his thoughts. Grisha beset his task of riding his horse about and bolstering auxiliary forces and skirmishers who took priority in the front. As the Haeseni blob of soldiers swept in and out of the tunnel like torrents of streaming ants, Grisha and his fellow reservists would pepper them in the backs with arrows. Grisha had seen many of the Valah warriors fall, wounded by his bodkin-pointed arrows, and perhaps he killed people that he had not spotted dying joining with the grass of the Veletzian steppes. Streaming like ants, so sad that is, to be so short-lived and to have your life cut short so soon nonetheless.

 

 

An unfortunate man garbed in traditional Teutonic armor came before him, and was cleaved in twine under a barrage of strikes from Grisha and other members of the combined Veletzian, Stassionite, and Ferryman forces. The Orcish berserkers led by their honorable Rex Grommash slew the cavalry force at the very beginning of the battle. As the enemy soldiers closed ranks, they began to break and their lines bent, the soldiers' Daemonsteel armor being curved under the blunt trauma inflicted by Grisha’s warhammer. At one point, a Haeseni soldier attempted to gut him, and the elf whirled around to jab him in the armpit with his mechanical hand that transformed into a knife. The poor Haeseni soldier let out a cry of terror before bounding off into the woods. Countless enemy soldiers ended up ensnared in the murky pits that the wily Ferryman Vyllaenen had constructed, and their numbers were quickly whittled down by javelins and arrows, as the horsemen pierced their rear flank and struck many of them down from behind.

 

Grisha dismounted from his horse at one point and then allowed his fellow Acaealite warrior Adriel to take it. Offered brief respite from the battle, the tall and limber Elfin warrior stooped to one knee and then offered Acaelan prayer, his hand resting over his ferrum-plated breast. His heart beat like a Lambeg drum. Da-dum-da-dum. Ba-dum-da-dum.

 

“O’Immortal King, August Father, Malin…” Grisha trailed off. “Lend me strength. O’Lord God, Immortal Creator, lend me your gaze. Keep me alive.” The Ferryman lifted himself up from the ground and then felt blood stream down from his left nostril. He had taken a blow to the head; but thankfully not a single Coalition arrow had found its mark upon his mortal flesh. The work of God, surely.

Before long Grisha emerged from the bloodshed triumphant. It was said that Adriel and Ruben together had slain countless amounts of soldiers, seemingly incalculable given the present odds. Two-against-one, the Elf thought as he mused to himself about the Teutonic ghost from earlier, contemplating whether or not it was real or merely a vision. Nonetheless, the old adage came back to him in his head, a historical tidbit from old Hansetian records. Always outnumbered, never outgunned.

 

Nonetheless, Meruasul and Grisha returned home, briefly sharing a meal with their Acaelanite compatriot Adriel before they returned to the Ferryman encampment in the city of Veletz. As he returned home, Grisha tossed his hand in the air along with countless other people, cheering: "Ave Veletz, Ave the Ferryman, Ave Stassionites and the Orcs!" Grisha and Meruasul got merry with the soldiers, dancing around the campfire, drinking mulled wine and eating juicy brisket. Together, the brothers then made an offering of lamb to their Lord God before turning in for the night after the field battle with nothing but relief and joy in their hearts.

Edited December 17, 2023 by RIGOR

[Orlanth 4667]

Vyllaenen smiled towards Grisha as he vacated the battle, seemingly unscathed throughout the entire thing despite both his armor and weapons drenched in blood. "That's more like it."

[lemonke 6014]

"He did it..." Ava mumbled, surprised about the outcome.

 

 

Spoiler

 

[adzb13 54]

Adzy walked back from the battlefield alongside Grisha, his arms full of looted equipment. "Hey help me carry this." he called to someone nearby. Alas their hands were also full.

[Rig 17581]

2 minutes ago, adzb13 said:

Adzy walked back from the battlefield alongside Grisha, his arms full of looted equipment. "Hey help me carry this." he called to someone nearby. Alas their hands were also full.

 

Grisha and Meruasul assist the Ferryman Adzy with piling the equipment in a cart for proper transport to the Veletzian armory.

[tadabug2000 4922]

Lady Brasca celebrated within the tavern, providing drinks amidst toasts. "To Veletz! To Brasca!" Her cheer was met with those who sat with her, and a certain saying echoed about them. "Justice for Brasca!"  The group enjoyed a myriad of drinks, amidst laughter, celebration and shared stories. A joyous smile, a strange sight for the Lady had formed.

 

@TheHunter38 @The_Bad_Werty @moosehunter123 @Wretched Aidan

[Mirvam 485]

 

[!] An illustration portraying the massacre of an aftermath, where multiple

bloodied skulls of Haenseni and coalition fighters clutter the fields.

 

A muddied and half-broken ferrymen set of plate armor sat bloodied inside a chest within the ferrymen encampment. A paper was hung, reading “spoils of war”, below it laid a multitude of broken bows, javelins, spears and scraps leftover from prolonged usage.

All the while Meruasul napped beside it with an empty quiver strapped to his back. He appeared to suffer minimum injuries yet a bloodied bandage covered his hand, with visible calluses protruding through. It appears to have been a long, but fulfilling day for not only the elf, but the everyone who stood strong against the invading Haenseni and coalition troops.

[RedeemedAidan 1125]

1 minute ago, tadabug2000 said:

Lady Brasca celebrated within the tavern, providing drinks amidst toasts. "To Veletz! To Brasca!" Her cheer was met with those who sat with her, and a certain saying echoed about them. "Justice for Brasca!"  The group enjoyed a myriad of drinks, amidst laughter, celebration and shared stories. A joyous smile, a strange sight for the Lady had formed.

 

@TheHunter38 @The_Bad_Werty @moosehunter123 @Wretched Aidan

"Justice for Brasca! Ave Stassion!" Baldwin cheered between his own cheery and heartfelt laughter.

[ErikAzog 3575]

the King of Balian, dragged away from the battle by men, he'd attempt to push back, "Let me back in!" his left arm taken by a Cavalry men of the Veletii-Horde forces, he'd sit in a sulken state, gritting his teeth, "We aren't done yet!" stated the old King.

[TheHunter38 41]

1 hour ago, tadabug2000 said:

Lady Brasca celebrated within the tavern, providing drinks amidst toasts. "To Veletz! To Brasca!" Her cheer was met with those who sat with her, and a certain saying echoed about them. "Justice for Brasca!"  The group enjoyed a myriad of drinks, amidst laughter, celebration and shared stories. A joyous smile, a strange sight for the Lady had formed.

 

@TheHunter38 @The_Bad_Werty @moosehunter123 @Wretched Aidan

Ser Rassvet Senko lifted his own glass in toast. "Justice for Brasca." He smiled at the joyous scene in front of him. 'This will be my last war, win or loose.' He thought.

[MRCHENN 4741]

“…Tatake.” Said Gorb’Gorkil in the corner