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BLOOD UPON SNOW


libertyybelle
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-x-

 

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-x-
 

The Duke of Vidaus was the center of attention in the quiet hall of Castle Morteskvan, his massive frame throwing a long shadow over the assembled multitude. The aged stone walls glimmered as torches danced along them, casting dark shadows over the features of people who stared back at him with an air of  fear

 

The moment arrived to retake Mummer's Gate, a stronghold held by Ruthern's noble family. And all the people inside the old walls of the fortress felt a sense of urgency.

 

Castle Morteskvan was alive with activity as purposeful footfall echoed off the worn stone flooring as personnel hurried to their assigned posts.

 

Both troops and citizens clambered to get to the cannons positioned strategically along the parapets atop the imposing fortifications. Men and women with determined definitions positioned heavy cannonballs, preparing the artillery for the approaching attack.

 

Amidst the organized chaos, the Duke's commands cut through the walls "Man the cannons! Prepare to defend our home!" His voice, tinged with urgency, guided the efforts of those who stood poised to repel the threat.

 

"Ea will watch the front gate," declared Rhys, his tone firm as he strode purposefully towards the furthest gatehouse from the walls.

 

A curt nod from Lord Ruthern signaled acknowledgment, his attention focused on overseeing the cannon-loading operations. "Da, take your hounds with you," he instructed, his gaze fixed on Rhys.

 

"And you, bowman!" The Daemonsteel Duke pointed a commanding finger towards Konrad Stafyr. "Join my son at the front gate. Rain arrows upon our foes from there."

 

"Pepper that second mammoth, I suppose," muttered Elathion, his brow furrowed in concentration as he adjusted his aim and triggered the cannon's ignition, releasing a satisfying hiss as the charge ignited, the cannon's barrel shifting to target the approaching mammoth.

 

Time went on and with the assistance of a Norlander of the name Io- the young Lady Svetlana assisted in besting two mammoths alongside Elathion.

 

“BOOM!” Screeched the little Ruthern in giddy excitement at the cannon jutted back- firing off the grapeshot set in place. “Hauchpapej- did vy see that- did vy see that! Ea did that!”

 

“Solid shot now, time to reload!” Elathion barks, getting ready!

 

“Ai! Vy have little time to gloat about shots, child.”

 

Io rose their hand, forming a circle with their index finger and thumb to form the Lakian 'OK' hand symbol towards Svetlana.

 

The second cannonball flies into the darkness toward the encampment. Through the roar of cannonfire on the other side, it's hard to tell what effect it might have had. Shortly after the third round of cannonfire - three large blue birds fly past, moving toward the gate. Lightning crackles from around their bodies, and a familiar figure at the head bird waves at them.

 

“One more round of fire into the mummer's gate, then we go and reinforce the gatehouse.” Commanded Elathion.

 

With another moment of set up, the canons were ready. A 'BOOYAH'  echoed ontop the walls as once again Svetlana set off the cannon.

 

The last two cannon shots fired sail into the darkness. It was hard to tell whether they killed any of the enemy, but they can be confident they at the very least struck the structures. Only the other force would know how much help the shots were.

 

Upon entering into the gatehouse- the other set of cannoneers were finishing their last shot. Io retrieved a spare lantern, and with a spark of octarine flames sets it alight, offering it to Svetlana. “The enemy likes the dark.”  The sentiment gentle in the chaos.

 

“Fire if vy have bows!”

 

And so- she held up the lantern. “Do niet worry- yam niet afraid of the dark. Ea like the dark!”

 

“The enemy likes it more, keep some light at hand.”

 

And so, the forces that besieged the walls of Morteskvan retreated, leaving the Chosen Ones to seek refuge within the courtyard's confines.

 

A gust of wind heralded the arrival of Tyr, feared and formidable, his feet landing with a resounding crunch upon the soil as he advanced towards the gate dividing the courtyard from the entrance of Vidaus.

 

From their vantage point, the Ruthern siblings observed as the Thrall leader, consumed by rage and desperation, hammered and berated the iron bars, relentlessly striving to shatter their confines.

 

“Eam worried for hauchpapej an' ze others.” Sigmar would mumble out, watching the fighting below.

 

The heiress and eldest, Lady Tatiyana, would peer down from the stone window towards the raiders as they littered the courtyard below her, a stern and stoic expression resting upon the childs features. “We are Ruthern. . .We worry niet and take pride in our battles, aye?” 

 

As the Ruthern siblings sought refuge, the battle raged on beyond their sight, its intensity evident in the distant echoes of clashing weapons and desperate shouts.

 

"DIE!" Elathion's cry shattered the momentary calm, interrupting the siblings' brief respite as the cacophony of crashing and scuffling reverberated through the air.

 

The fight arrived now to the gate Tyr was smashing, and the Chosen Ones stepped in order to defend their leader. In the process, the Sergeant Stafyr slashed and brutalized as he jumped down to shield the spell being uttered by Ailred. Three of Tyr’s chosen piled their blades upon his flesh- inflicting not only with wounds but within poision.

 

The Chosen, now slayed in their folly, attested to Tyr being the last to survive. Attempting to make his escape before being surrounded in the jousting yard.

 

It was only a matter of time- blow from all angles came down. Elathion, Ailred, Rosalind together weakened him. The Dame Rosalind’s blade piercing fiercely through the heart of Tyr. Ending his reign without a single final word from his lips.

 

“Ich prefer it this way.” Uttered the Dame, twisting her sword deep into the leader’s chest.

 

His blood dripped down, covering the snow in crimson. The siege was over, Morteskvan free from the grips of terror that Tyr held. It seemed unreal as the quiet took over the yard. From the gates the people attacking Mummer’s arrived. 

 

The shield of Tyr held high above the Duke’s head.

 

“BY BONE AND BARROWS”

 

Upon heading into the keep, the Duke took his throne- surrounded by his legacy ilk.

 

"Ea shall be brief, for the battle was drawn out. Ea thank vy all for whetting vyr blades in the defense of Morteskvan and Vidaus, and of Haense.

 

The next we shall see those fool shadow-men, et shall be us climbing their ramparts, and putting their homes to flame. Such es right, and such es as God would wish to see.

 

Vy fought well, and acquitted vyrselves well. So ea thank vy, as Duke of these lands. Vyr contributions and vyr bloodshed shall niet be forgotten.

 

Vy may rest as vy require here in Vidaus, for vy have earnt rest."

 

The Duke raised up his axe before dipping his head to those present in the hall, a symbol of his gratitude to those defenders who were arrayed before him.


 

“BY BONE AND BARROWS”

 

“KRUSAE ZWY KONGZEM”


 

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Spoiler

This is a TLDR from what my character saw- much more happened but here is a tidbit! Thank you to everyone for showing up and helping and thank you to Mini and Sarven for the eventline.

 

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Elathion was ecstatic with the victory, the wry feeling of before washed away. It took a long time after the battle of Elathion to calm down, and he soon took to his steed to go and scourge the countryside for fleeing thralls.

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The Bastard of Druzstra spent the night praying.

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The Ruthern heiress, TATIYANA VAS RUTHERN, having bore witness to the bloody battles of Morteskvan, would grin with pride alongside her younger sister Svetlana as the two celebrated the victory and safety of their home. "By bones and barrows, sestra. . ." @libertyybelle

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From high above, in the Weeping Tower of Castle Morteskvan, a dreary toddler seemed to see a lull in her tears and wails. For one night, the girl had reprieve from those wayward souls, both friend and foe, who had lost their lives in the time since the siege had begun.

 

"Dravi, Tyr!" The youth would hum, leaving her nursemaid ill-at-ease.

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It had to have been enough. The sound of cannonfire rang still in her ears, as black-blood trickled down the back and side of her head. The undeadslayers blow had done no small amount of damage. Battered half-plate had been stripped away, beaten to the point of uselessness. Her eye shut. 

Victory sometimes, looked strange. Sermi thought. How long would it be until they had figured out their folly? A quick glance to the other she had served alongside. No lance through the chest, not even an arrow. Only snow and dust. The Devil wondered, looking around the small space they had confined themselves to recover, how long that luck would hold out. 

How strange it was to be on the other side. 

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Sigmar var Ruthern stood atop Castle Morteskvan, staring down the path which the enemy had approached from. He had stood with his siblings, watching the fighting from above. Watching with his hand gripped on the handle of his blunt training sword, watching his family and kinsmen wound and get wounded, Sigmar made a vow. 

 

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The fires in Castle Morteskvan continue to burn.

 

"BONES AND BARROW!"

"KRUSAE ZWY KONGZEM!"

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