'Pon Sundered Wings

[Vikenz 1162]

 

Art by Aeus

 

 

 

So then did the Lord of Avistra approach the victorious Lord of Drusco. As per tradition, Meili drew forth his sword, held the blade with one hand and the hilt with the other, and fell unto one knee. 

 

“Avistra is yours, my Lord.” 

---

Middelbroke had been a stunning triumph for the men of Drusco. Its fields bore still the stain of blood from the massacre but a saint’s year passed. This much, however, was little heeded by the men of the Vydric Order, now returned to the site of their conquest. Some twenty three thousand strong, the Druscan host marched merrily through the crimsoned fields, bound for the last stronghold of the Avistrans. This, their destined prize, drew nigh as the host advanced, its paltry silhouette etched upon the distant sky. A single stone tower stood stark above a scatter of crudely made hovels, themselves encircled by walls ill-made and ill-fashioned for the impending siege, likely thrown up in haste to stave off the Druscan forces.

The coarsely defended eyrie sheltered some thirteen thousand men, the last remnant of the Margrave Meili’s weary host. They were broken and bruised, but not yet bowed. Hawks in a wind-lashed nest, the last of the Avistrans kept watch, eyes fixed upon the dark tide of the Druscan host drawing nigh. From within the stoney confines of the keep, commands rang forth, and the defenders readied themselves, for there remained to them no more flight, only the fall which was to come. 

 

 

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The walls of Wing’s Crest served poorly in their objective. With great ease, the men of the Vydric pressed through these feeble firmaments, making swift passage to the town square. There, the crude hovels which encircled the expanse of the township lay barren, forsaken and emptied. This, the Druscan soldiery swiftly noted, and with it, the hiding place of their foe, for, within mere moments, whilst the Druscans were caught unaware, a rain of arrows fell from the lone stone tower of Wing’s Crest, the final holdfast of Avistra: Castle Avian.    As arrows did shower from above, the Druscan soldiers sought refuge beneath the coarsely fashioned hovels of Wing’s Crest. From such shelter, those donning the cross of Saint Andrik drew bows of their own, and let arrows fly in turn toward their unseen mark. Thus did the battle rage for some time, as the men of Drusco and Avistra exchanged fierce volleys. At last, when the arrows grew few, and little ground was gained, Lord Roger, with Gloire Drusque in hand, signalled his men forward, urging them to charge for the tower.    So did the men of Drusco surge forth, afforded but meagre cover from the onslaught of arrows that poured upon them, making way for the foot of the tower. Yet the defences of Castle Avian were of sterner make than those of the township. Round ran retainers of the Vydric about the Castle Avian in search of some sort of entrance, yet none was to be found. For all the force brought against them, the gates held fast, and the doors yielded none.   With no other option left to them, the men of Drusco did then set their ladders to the stoney walls of Castle Avian, and begin to scale its meager heights. From the ramparts above rained down arrows, and yet the losses endured by the Druscan forces were scant and of little consequence; upward they pressed until at last they stood atop the walls, ready to test their steel against their foe for one final time.

 

 

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Castle Avian, for all the desperate defiance of its defenders, stood no chance against the sheer, unyielding might of these men. Once its walls had been scaled and its defenses thoroughly breached, little hope remained. With a thunderous roar, the men of the Vydric stormed its upper halls, a tide of steel and fury that swept away the last vestiges of resistance, wiping hundreds from the ramparts in a brutal, swift display of dominance.

Admist the chaos and clash of weaponry, Rivlys, a retainer of the Vydric of no great origin, found his way into the heart of the Avistrain backlines. There, amidst the desperate few who sought to stem the tide, he cut down some men with a furious efficiency, and with a final, decisive effort, heaved open the main gates, allowing the full force of the Druscan host to surge into the heart of the stronghold. The last of the Avistran host, commanded by Margrave Meili himself, did steel themselves for the coming storm. The Druscans had cleaved through the last of their defences, and pressed inward to meet their foe in battle. Wilfred charged firstly of the Druscan ranks, cutting down some four hundred men single-handedly. Alongside him rode Lucan, who cleaved a path for the Druscan soldiers, advancing their charge.

Within mere moments, there stood but one among the fallen Avistrans, he who was clad in the blue and white gambeson of the House Altwegg. Amidst the ruins of his holdfast and the slain ranks of his host, he stood without any allies, surrounded now by Druscan blades. Without delay, he was taken to the fields of Middelbroke, there to meet his counterpart, he who donned the red and black of his own victorious House Rouen.

 

 

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So then did the Lord of Avistra approach the victorious Lord of Drusco. He drew forth his sword, held the blade with one hand and the hilt with the other. “Avistra is yours, my Lord.”
 

Roger brought a hand forward and grasped at that Avistran steel, a gaze falling upon the men that surrounded him. “You have fought well. And you have been honorable. But I speak only with Candor - and this day, GOD has proven this.

 

“You come under me, nay, as punishment of fate, but of ODE to His great plan; let us unite, and make his Kingdom greater. Rise, a man of the Vydric! Knight, and Lord of Drusco!”

 

Spoiler

Had some fun fights for the war and thank you to Avistrans for taking pvp. It was very good fights and legitimately the first non-toxic war that lotc has ever provided. Hope yall had fun gg. 

 

 

 

 

[penninoe 162]

GG and well fought Drusco! : - )