Massacre of Blackvale Woods

[wolfdwg 2677]

 

 

 

 

The lonely Belethia stood solemnly, its silence broken only by the scattering of hooves. It was a brief raid, one undertaken by the competent many, of which the Imperium had in scores. Nary a soul had awoken by the time the fight was over. It was a brief affair, as was required of them. A clash of steel, a strike of the pommel, a whip of the reins—each resounded for the merest moments, though within the heat of battle, a minute of it, if that, was all it took to achieve victory, the sort of which had not been seen in some time.

 

Simon Peter Rovare, the heir to Belethia, sat in chains. Beside him lay the bodies of his defenders, slain to the last.
 

 

Rain fell on the fields outside Zwartsteen, home to the House van Aert. Howling winds off the rocky shores buffeted the flying colors of the Emperor of Man alongside the Red Dragon banner of the Imperial Knight Order. There, Hadrian rode atop a pure white thoroughbred clad in black plates of lodenlander gothic. On his flanks rode his son and heir, Marcus Tiberias, and the Grand Knight of the Imperium, Sir Arn Honeywine. Behind them, a host of levies, allies, and mercenaries, each with their own heraldries and armaments, stood arrayed in rank and file. Nords stood next to Oyashii. Idunians next to Crownlanders. On the flanks, various orcish and elven mercenaries. A multicultural host, all fighting in the name of Hadrian’s vision, a united realm under the Almighty God. They numbered around three thousand six hundred men-at-arms.

“Sire, here they come.” Sir Honeywine spoke.

 

“Ah, very good! Finally they come from their tunnels!” Hadrian smiled.

 

In the distance coming from the hills of the Principality of Reinmar came an arrayed host of vengeful raiders. The banners of the Grand Kingdom, Beleth, the Horde, and their various vassals and clans assembled near the stone markings of the border of Reinmar and Blackvale. In the woods, they marshaled their Belethian Swordsmen and Urguani Crossbowmen. On their southern flank rode a diverse grouping of mounts and riders of the ‘Four Brother’s Coalition’. They numbered around three thousand and seven hundred men-at-arms.

 

“A speech perhaps, Lord Father?” Marcus queried.

 

“A speech is not necessary, my men know themselves far superior to our foe.” Hadrian replied.

 

 

As both armies arrayed themselves, men on both sides took to prayer as the torrential downpour ceased. Sunlight broke through the gray clouds, revealing a landscape pockmarked with mud and puddles. Men spoke of a fresh dew scent filling the air; if not for what was to come, it would’ve been picturesque. This was not to be, as horns bellowed from both sides, and battle was joined. It began with volleys of bolts and arrows from the infantry on both sides, slamming into each other and filling the air with cries of pain. On the flanks, horse archers and skirmishers engaged each other’s outriders. Men were knocked from their mounts, only to be cut down swiftly as they recovered to their feet. From a bird's-eye view, a strategy began to unfold.

Under the command of Sir Honeywine, the Dragon Knights and command staff present were issued one order, “Chorale them into these woods.” He motioned to the densely packed treeline where the infantry of the Four Brother’s host sought refuge. “It is here that this refuge will be their grave.”

Outriders beneath Sir Fredrick Euler of Adria, the Dragon Knight Sir Antonius Lucien of Valmont, and the famed mercenary uruk Kruz’Ahlyz the Red Terror began their encirclement. At the center, Emperor Hadrian I, flanked by the likes of Dragon Knight Martius the Elkhound and the Imperial Marshal Lord Vander the Giantsbane, pressed the advance. This in turn drew the gloryhounds within the ranks of their foes to meet the surging center. “Like swine to slaughter,” Sir Honeywine said to his companion, Dragon Knight Zubayr the Sandsworn. “Give the signal.” Sir Zubayr promptly lifted a horn to his lips and blew an ivory horn that resounded throughout the field. A cry rose in response as, all along the imperial lines, a charge was issued. Like a hangman’s noose tightening, the flanks of outriders pressed in on the disoriented cavalry of the enemy host. Within the woods, chaos broke out in the raider host. A thick fog from earlier rain had set visibility horrendous, and from the mists and gnarled trees, the charging Imperials appeared with zealous fervor, throwing themselves at their foes. Tawantinsuyin levies screamed their tribal warcries, Reinmaren tribals recited their faithful doctrines, and the men of Blackvale slaughtered with brutal silence.

The battle quickly turned to slaughter, then to massacre. Men-at-arms wearing the heraldry of the Four Brothers’ host, seeking to flee, were cut down to a man as they broke from the woods to the plains. There was no escape and no quarter given. In the end, rumors and tales spread that not a single Imperial lay dead, but the bodies of Urguani, the Horde, and Belethians lay in piles, countless.

Three thousand and seven hundred raiders sought to free the Belethian Princeling Simon Peter under the command of Peter I of Beleth, Yrun Ireheart, and Rex Torosh’Mak. Their men never made it out, themselves having fled for their own lives narrowly avoiding capture.

 

The victorious host returned to Ritterberg, where the execution of the Belethian Princeling took place, along with any and all prisoners. A single cry was echoed through the streets,

 

“AVE IMPERIVM!”

 

 

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[KBR 2046]

Sir Lothar d'Amaury kneels before his beloved Chudicus, the Lotharingian steed taken from him too soon. He looks to the skies and vows that Chudicus' death would not be in vain. 

3,600 Empire soldiers stood victorious over the Four Brothers Host. Not a single man fell, still the loss of his horse pained him greatly.

"Your sacrifice will be remembered, old friend. The Golden Oak weeps for you alone." 
 

((video - quality scuffed I fix tmrw

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[MonteGiant 891]

 

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༺⊰☼⊱༻   Thereupon, that battlefield within those woods, the Tawantinsuyin Kondorisi, Tupaq Amaru, gave succor to an uruk attempting to crawl away- an uruk of clan Lur, executed by his hand. Despite the carnage that took place within that forest, there remained not a single fallen ally. He and his heir’s bronze visage gleamed in smiles as the sun hit their forms through the canopy of leaves up above, a symbol of victory. Within his grasp, his ancestral blade of luminescent steel warmed in the blood of southerners, being utilized to cleave the head of his foe, a worthwhile addition to his grand supply of trophies.   There were few words spoken by the Kondorisi, though one statement remained present, the cry of battle for his kin.   “ᴋᴀʟʟᴘᴀꜱᴀᴘᴀᴋᴜɴᴀʟʟᴀ.”

[Cryptic 549]

The Dragon-Squire stood bloody and proud on the battlefield. Thankfully, it was not his own Waldenian blood that had left the mark in his plated, but rather that of greenskins and dwarves, leaving him unmarked and unscathed. Gundahar felt a sense of pride, fighting for Man.

Edited January 27 by Cryptic

[ibraheemc2000 2965]

R

[woke 1157]

"Eventful day, Big Red." remarked Antonius to his best friend, Kruz'Ahlyz, who acquired two new titles, Red Terror and Prince of the Stars. @SmackSmack

 

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no kills but did damage as a suicide diver would

 

[TaraJess 2848]

A flutter of silver eyes open, a distant pang of pain in her side where she threw herself at the blade of two grown men, and still refused to die.

 

"Did we get him...? Did we win??"

[Coronate 5519]

I am afraid I’ll never find a worthy death in battle. Lord Vander thought as he wretched his carbarum greatsword from the dead human- or Uruk, though it was hard to tell the difference after how mangled the body had become.

 

”Lord Vander.” A guardsman offered to take his blade, and raising it to the man for cleaning he let it fall to his hands.

 

This is the curse I bear for not joining my daughter.

[Baccaaa 490]

Some Idunian elvess consults the battle graphs and statistics with the details granted to her. Her eyes widen. "This actually happened? Are you sure there is no error?" she would ask of the assistant in recording the occurence.

 

The assistant would shake their head, then a finger gestured upon the parchment. "I assure you those numbers were real. The battle was one sided."

 

The elvess would then respond, half convinced. "Well that is one of the more impressive outcomes to witness even in paper. Either the foe could not hit the side of a barn, or the allies simply are that skilled."

[DarkxWalker 249]

Stekvark returns once more to his abode with the riches he gathered from the Belethians, Hordesmen, and Urguani. His fierce lancework with the assistance of his almighty stead, Big Bertha, and his comrades from the Imperium, Idunia, and Norland proved to be lethal. Thus, thirty seven to none once again.

[VolcanicGoat 299]

The War-Priest exhales through his nose, blade lowering as he scanned the bloodied woods "Iudicium Dei passus es.. effugere non potuisti..." he uttered, returning to his steed

[Yeetboy0206 1574]

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Maddock Tam trained. After almost two years now of being confined to a wheelchair, after almost losing his resolve for his home, for the Dream...No more.

 

No more allowing himself to doubt the right course.

 

No more allowing this enemy the grace that only GOD can grant.

 

No more treating the enemy better than the children they maim, torment, and kidnap.

 

They want to rule the world. They want to do it through fear.

 

Then Beleth will become a Nation Without Fear.

 

"No more...When this war is won, the Empire will not survive. They will be witnesses to the death of a nation of their own making, brought about because they didn't listen to those they oppressed who used reason, while they used blades."

 

"NEVER AGAIN."

[Werew0lf 24180]

6 minutes ago, Yeetboy0206 said:

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Maddock Tam trained. After almost two years now of being confined to a wheelchair, after almost losing his resolve for his home, for the Dream...No more.

 

No more allowing himself to doubt the right course.

 

No more allowing this enemy the grace that only GOD can grant.

 

No more treating the enemy better than the children they maim, torment, and kidnap.

 

They want to rule the world. They want to do it through fear.

 

Then Beleth will become a Nation Without Fear.

 

"No more...When this war is won, the Empire will not survive. They will be witnesses to the death of a nation of their own making, brought about because they didn't listen to those they oppressed who used reason, while they used blades."

 

"NEVER AGAIN."

“Somewhere in the world, a man is shouting about winning the war against us,” The Emperor commented, staring out towards his wife and imperial knights. 
 

“I have one eye, but some men are blind with both.” 

[Sir_omni 151]

Somewhere in the Belethian woods hiding from the people sits a man painting flowers in the morning . Then the sun rises, the sky looks red, he looks up commenting ” a battle has been fought somewhere in these lands “ he shrugs puts his painting away and starts making breakfast over the fire

[rep2k 3192]

“To think that I chatted with the Prince just a couple ora before this occurred. Dio favours his loved ones, I am certo securo.”

 

Cesare remarks to himself, making his way back south for further business.

 

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