garentoft 8353 Share Posted January 14 Rex Enrico thrust a bloodied sword skyward in triumph, "One last hurrah for Stassion! May they corpses rot and mold, and their memory become nothing but a footnote in the annals of history!" He cheered. The fall of Stassion was the perfect sequel to the defense at Hippo's Gorge. 12 Link to post Share on other sites More sharing options...
Sebbysc 319 Share Posted January 14 "Edmund," was a name often spoken of within the Hand of Horen. Oftentimes it was with mournful whispers, or tales of remembrance. To such a young boy this name held so much weight to it like those of the Exalted. It was so familiar but remained almost esoteric in nature to him. John Jr. would never get to meet this Edmund, nor would he ever get the full story of his existence. However, this grandiose name wouldn't live as a simple footnote in Alstion history nor would it live idly in the mind of the third-born child. It would take hold and likely shape the outcome of his life for better or for worse. John Jr. would find himself sitting along the windowsill of his chamber as he watched the smoke billow up from the West. As all of these thoughts came and went he'd end up thinking of ways to welcome his Father once he made his return. 10 Link to post Share on other sites More sharing options...
simpleglitchbro 295 Share Posted January 14 Váli smiles overlooking the flattened keep, "All the piled up dirt in the world didn't save them. The Father's flame burnt bright for us. It certainly did for the rest of my cannon squad." He thumps a hand over his armored chest, then shouting over the battlefield "Do you hear me, Veletz?! This is what comes to those who ally themselves with darkspawn! There's nowhere you can hide that we won't find you!" 7 Link to post Share on other sites More sharing options...
indiana105 2139 Share Posted January 14 Prince Ivan Aleksandr stood amongst the smoldering ruins of the Stassionite castle. The Northern façade had all but crumbled, obliterated after volley after volley of the good Patriarch's artillery corps. Whatever throne these sons of sons of Orenians had claimed surely lay crushed beneath tonnes of rock and ruin. "It seems their dirt did niet save them," mused the Prince as he watched a contingent of Brotherhood men sawing at the rope of a purple banner, strung up from the parapets. He had read the stories of Phillip's Folly, and the Slaughter at Acre. His father had led the host that crushed Frederick II at Whitespire. Today, Ivan rode alongside his kinsmen as they put Richard's Principality to fire and sword. He took up a post at his lord father's side, a hand lain on the blood-soaked hilt of the longsword at his hip. "Four generations of this fool Prince's line have made war upon us. And now, four generations of their men lay dead at our hands." A shout came from across the courtyard, followed by another, and another. The banner of Stassion fluttered unceremoniously into the mud, where it lay alongside a heap of teal and burgundy. "This was nie ant hill, but a nest of rats." 13 Link to post Share on other sites More sharing options...
Pureimp10 5179 Share Posted January 14 (edited) Patriarch Josef washed the soot and ash from his face with the water in his canteen. The fight had been long and hard, but his cannons had done their job. Once clean, he took to the most important room in all the castle to claim his reward - the kitchen. Edited January 14 by Pureimp10 12 Link to post Share on other sites More sharing options...
ContestedSnow 778 Share Posted January 14 "We've flushed the vipers from their dirt den. Next, comes Veletz etself." Viktor 'Daemonsteel' took a moment to rest at the edge of the now-concluded battlefield, where the grass of the von Theonus lands met the self-torched and trodden of once-Stassion. He allowed his horse to rest and graze, while he regarded the ruined mound and rubble that lay before him. Anthill. 7 Link to post Share on other sites More sharing options...
VoidTermnia 264 Share Posted January 14 "There is no winning in war. Merely death of friends and family." Moth bowed their head in respect to the dead. "May all who lost their lives in the war find peace and solace. May all who have not died, find their reasoning and put an end to this brutality." 4 Link to post Share on other sites More sharing options...
MrMojoMordor 524 Share Posted January 14 Gob Ztabba-Zniffa, the-cannon-aiming-goblin-wishing-to-be-knight-but-sadly-still-too-illiterate, foolishly thought this battle was over the dirt. Thus one could see him loading the carrier bags of his 'Wagh Pony' up with dirt. ..among his usual antics of making soup of fallen enemy body parts. Spoiler 6 Link to post Share on other sites More sharing options...
Jensen02 200 Share Posted January 14 During the aftermath of the Battle Sir Stanton von Stroheim would keenly identify corpses clad with Stassion colors, before gruelingly removing the tongues from each of them. 6 Link to post Share on other sites More sharing options...
Myochii 663 Share Posted January 14 Ser Lord Mayor Boon, of the legendary international brand 'Boon & Bane's' found himself a nice spot upon the Aaunic docks after the long, perilous battle. Instead of rushing to the Hand of Horen to continue with his babysitting duties of the royal children, the merchant sat quietly contemplating until the sun rose, kicking his feet back and forth. Watching the waves crash; the very same waves he had travelled alongside Bane from far, far away to escape their previous life. Battles were not made for Boon. Boon was not made for battles. Swords did not fit right in his hands, and armour was too uncomfortable. Had the merchant lost his way? Was he the same man that once arrived upon these very docks, eager to open up his very first tent? These were all things he contemplated. Despite the triumph, this particular battle only reminded him of those who were taken from him. Those he loved and swore to protect."I jus' hope this'll be over soon. Thas all." 13 Link to post Share on other sites More sharing options...
psychra_notte 115 Share Posted January 14 Kragunri Doomforged marched back to Urguan, a bag of loot over the back of a new horse that had been abandoned on the battlefield "New materials fer ta 'all, and tae Legion! Plus, a friend!" The doomforged grinned widely, ready to donate what he had. 4 Link to post Share on other sites More sharing options...
Cheese 2307 Share Posted January 14 ((On mobile so I can’t spoiler this properly BUT CANNON 20 ATE)) 5 Link to post Share on other sites More sharing options...
Balthasar 2089 Share Posted January 14 The Prince of Merryweather had commanded an artillery crew the first few hours of the siege - He swore he had destroyed at least four trebuchets; he even saw limbs and red mists appear as he had miscalculated the shot, but hit anyways. These "good-misses" pleased him, the death of Stassionites placated his angry mind. Eventually the artillery had spent all ammunition. A shame, he had so much more he wanted to do. Without hesitation, Johannes and his crew abandoned the cannon and joined the infantry, as protocol demanded. Cavalry and archers skirmished back and forth on the western flank, this went back and forth before the order for a head on charge was ordered. The Waldenian obeyed and they all charged into the breach cutting down Veletzers, Stassionites and Orcs alike. Later once the fighting was over with, Johannes von Alstreim joined his King's side. Their appearances marred by blood and gunpowder soot, but they were alive, more than alive! They had enacted sweet vengeance and the Lowlands were now restored. "Tandem Triumphans!" They all cheered once the last enemy was cut down. It was a deafening roar, all joined the cheering, regardless of nationality or creed. 8 Link to post Share on other sites More sharing options...
PecenyRohlik 235 Share Posted January 14 "Tandem Triumphans indeed," hummed Witold Jazlowiecki, freshly home from the battlefield. "This shall be grand written in ink," he added a remark, set to record the battle down into a chronicle. 5 Link to post Share on other sites More sharing options...
seannie 6860 Share Posted January 14 An exhausted Tiber finally sat himself down upon the rubbles of the Stassion castle, overlooking the raging fires of the city below. He sighs wearily as his helm is removed - revealing his overly scarred visage - another settlement burned to the ground. From his youth in Aegis, to now in Aevos, the Elf thought to himself the hardships he has had endured over the centuries. The destructions of continents, scouring of Kingdoms, crumbling Empires - were the Descendants so doomed by the Curse of Iblees that they are fated to slaughter each other till infinity? Even though he can barely recall them now, his family had perished in both Aegis and Anthos, leaving the then nameless Elf to wander the earth aimlessly - observing the passage of time somberly, which now brought him to the razing of Stassion, just another footnote in history. Greater threats gathered around the Descendants, yet their shortsightedness resulted only in petty squabbles ultimately. What is a nation lost here and there to war, when entire continents seem to be rendered asunder routinely? What use was the Elf involving himself in such trivial matters? Was the Curse of Iblees truly permanent? Nevertheless, Tiber found himself content in his short-lived friend's triumphing, taking a drag on his cigarette then as he pondered over the Flames of Stassions. King John had showed him remarkable hospitality, and the Elf was dedicated in repaying such. 2 Link to post Share on other sites More sharing options...
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