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About iMattyz

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    Wood Elf

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  1. “The Mali’thill acting like the scavenging vultures they are.” a Wood Elf states, rolling his eyes in a distinctly not-shocked manner.
  2. “Go, now’s our chance! Charge!” The Elf exclaimed with his usual vim and vigour, bursting from the palace doors of Reza at the forefront of Alliance forces which he had assumed command of. Perhaps not expecting such a swift assault, Pertinaxi men withdrew at first over the small bridge leading up to the royal residence. With his slightly curved Elven longblade, the burgundy armoured figure used all of the swordsmanship skills gained throughout his life, fighting for that very life. One valah engaged him in the melee, but quickly withdrew due to the pressure. Darting eyes, a rapidly beating heart, who was next to best? The pale Elf met his eyes quickly. Khaine recognised him, Auriel - a cowardly magus in hael’unorian service. Confidently engaging the sycophantic sorcerer in combat, superiority was quickly gained. He had tested Auriel’s strength in a prior engagement, and it had been lacking. The same was proven swiftly during the fierce duel for survival in Reza, as Khaine’s sword quickly weaved its way between his opponent’s defences, inflicting a severe blow, though not a mortal one. Victory? “Regroup, in front of the palace!” There was no time. Like a looming storm cloud they were upon him, one from the front, one from the side. The Renatians, having been pushed back initially, had rallied. It was a moment that inflicted the greatest dread in his heart. Nevertheless, the Phoenix did not give up the fight so easily, and so he fought on and on. Suddenly, from nowhere, a spear point thrust toward his face. The Elf’s reflexes weren’t so worn out yet, and Khaine managed to avoid the brunt of the blow, it instead grinding against the side of his platemail. He swung the blade in his right hand, slashing the leg of a Renatian to his right in response, but it was to no avail. At the very moment as the last comrade fell, Khaine’s right arm was ravaged by a strike delivered with the blunt edge of an axe, fracturing it. With what movement he could muster with the damaged arm, Khaine ‘threw’ his bloodied sword to the floor and allowed his own capture. He had been defeated. It was his fault, and his rashness which caused the calamity, the rashness which, for most of his life, had served as a boon. Now, it was his undoing. His final undoing, as it turned out. Conscious thoughts and unconscious action, now was the time for such things. They say ones life flashes before their eyes before death takes them, and it proved true. Unconsciously, Khaine spoke and spoke to his captors, reasoning with them and even praising their prowess in combat. Yet his mind was somewhere else, reliving the two and a half centuries he had hung on so far, many of years of which comprised glories beyond imagining, and many more still were nothing but failures. His children, his loved children. Khaine could barely remember their faces or their names, pushed forward by adrenaline as he was. Now, despite his failures as a father to the oem’ii he had sired, it was the time for ‘what ifs’ and regret. Little Adessius, rowdy young chip off the old block that he was, would grow into adulthood barely remembering what his long-dead father looked like, never knowing the tender touch and loving hold of a parent whose deeds would be retold in stories, but never in person. The child’s mother - Quillian, absentee as she had been, sat on Khaine’s mind as he was gradually heaved to the throne room. Any final contact was now impossible, but the ‘ame almost willed himself to imagine, to imagine the embrace of his partner one final time. It was a luxury he did not have. Before the thought reached its zenith, the smiling face of his lover disappeared for one last time. The Phoenix snapped back into the grim reality his mind had sought to escape, being ignominiously forced to kneel before an unknown figure. Words of a familiar figure, Auriel - the Elf whom Khaine had defeated not an hour before now rang out in the Reza throne room. The reprehensible fellow Mali began to read from a list of charges, as though prosecuting Khaine for some crime. Incredulous, and not going to accept the words of such a dishonourable whelp, the armoured elf interrupted, spitting venomous insults towards his would be adversary. Surprisingly, some of the valah in the room agreed with Khaine’s resentful taunting, much to his satisfaction. It would be one of the last luxuries the defeated child of Malin would endure. After a respectful exchange between the Renatian commander - John Alexander, and Khaine himself, a spear was pitilessly thrust into the Elf’s neck. The final thoughts of a warlike creature who had spent his whole life on the battlefield - Fire. “Burn me.” the words took the effort of a scream, but emerged as a pained, weak whimper. His last wish expressed, death took Khaine Csarathaire, a brief but empty, despair filled void filling those connected to the aspects as he went. There would be nothing, and then anger and pain, mixed with a deep, acute sorrow. Ravening flames licked hungrily at the Elf’s slain, yet seemingly tranquil form, eager to return him to the Gods which he so revered. It was how the Phoenix had always wanted to go - in battle and by fire. The conquering valah had respected his final wish. As Khaine’s mortal form left the world for whatever came after, a large, blazing phoenix circled far above the Renatian pyre once, sounding a loud, grief-filled cry before flying away, filling the Imperial evening air with light. He had rarely been happy in this cold, dark world. Perhaps the next journey would bring him peace - meeting his fallen friends and loved ones, but that story is beyond us. Let him now rest in peace.
  3. Wyvrus thinks Renatus d’oth protest too much about its ‘many victories’.
  4. Good fight boys

    1. rukio


      good fight

  5. A slightly injured wood elf would draw an image in his usual crude style
  6. It was a full-scale war for the open field they expected and wished for, but it was just that they would not receive. Columns of marching men and their Elven allies streamed down the northern road side by side, from the humblest peasants of Ves carrying their spears to the Elvenessi vanguard wielding their dire waraxes. Fancily clad Fennic Valkyr strode aside hardy Haenseni swordsmen on their way to the battlefield where the clash of men would be decided. The lock-step march of each nation’s full-time military was backed and contrasted up by the undisciplined steps of their militia forces, raised from the population at large and armed with the simplest, most easy to use weaponry. Khaine chose to keep away from his own line of march, travelling parallel to the road in the forested hills and plains off to the left side. It was officially a scouting measure but, as a bonus, he really just liked to be away from the crowd with a few friends and his captains. From the position on the march’s flank, Khaine and the party which accompanied him had a relatively good view of the lands in front of the marching columns and the columns themselves. “They’ll be visible just over this rise.” The silence broke abruptly with the voice, and Khaine’s eyes flicked over to the human who had spoke - a Heartlander local who was on their side, or so he believed. At these words, a small sigh of relief exited the veteran ‘ame’s mouth. He had, of course, been marching for quite a while and was now keen to sleep before the war. Silence reigned again, ever more stringently due to the now concluded march of the main force below Khaine and his merry band. They had stopped to set up camp before the clash - understandable, such a distance away was safe enough from any night-raids. Nevertheless, the Elf and the group with him marched ever forward, perhaps around half a mile further until they crested the hill. Where they expected to see throngs of men and bustling activity, instead there was nothing. Nothing, that was, except for a few Pertinaxi troops on the horizon struggling to take down their tents and, further behind them, a column of Renatians streaming into a large fortress. Scoffing and shaking his head, Khaine listened as the Human with him shouted joyfully. “Their men have run from the battlefield!” To which Khaine added pridefully, as was his nature: “A shameful display, they daren’t meet us on the field. Bring up the stone throwers.” Soon, the main army got word of this capitulation from their enemy, which caused a degree of consternation. Though battle is a terrible thing, the allied army was keen on it this day, confident of victory as they were. Despite this, it heartened the soldiery to hear that their enemy fled from their own valour. With grit and determination, they prepared for a siege and an assault.
  7. Kbs4qJ2.png

    1. Lionbileti


      Medvekoma is a top tier 💩 poster 

  8. In the cities comprising humanity’s Holy Orenian Empire under Joseph I and of the Elven nations marching at their side, a notice begins to appear, bearing the following message Those of Malin’s descent can no longer stand idly by while justice loving valah are once again beset by the depredations of Pertinaxi pretenders. To march for war is a terrible thing a people must do, but to march toward a just cause tempers the blow somewhat. In a black, rotten alliance with the perfidious ‘Aheral of the Enclave, vile Pertinaxi nobles attempted to snuff out the attempt of once divided Elves to unite under one confederation. Once hated enemies ‘Fenn, ‘Ame and ‘Ker stood together in hopes of defending a shared peace. The Pertinaxi enemy could not stand our unity, and sought to destroy us for it. Now we march against the tyrants who sought our destruction. Never again shall Malin’s people suffer oppression under the boot of those who now attempt to subjugate us. At our strongest point in the lands of Atlas, brave vassals under Pertinaxi domination came to us for aid. To our shame, we refused them that. This time, we shall not waver in our efforts to compensate for such a failure. In unison with our noble allies in Vira’ker and in the lands of the Fenn, Wood Elves shall march to war in aid of the Haensetic, Adrian and Curonite people. With this proclamation, we summon all those scattered ‘ame who seek home in a peaceful world. Rally to us, fight this war to break the Pertinaxi shackle. Let the blade of Malin be unsheathed. Let it fall strongly on the necks of the unjust. Elvenesse now mobilises for full-scale war.
  9. “The valah of the Empire have wronged us Mali many times in the past centuries. Renatus was the rotten core of those empires. Let the rot be purged from humanity. Let the ‘Pertinaxi’ rats scurry away.”
  10. | A letter returns to those who have sent forms into Command | – “You are enlisted. Report for assembly in one Elven day next to the gate.”
  11. | A letter returns to those who have sent forms into Command | – “You are enlisted. Report for assembly in one Elven day next to the gate.”
  12. THE CERUIRAN With the defenders of the Forest Gods and Malin’s people once again threatened, it has become necessary once again to militarise the peerless capacity of the true Elven people. In order to do its part for the defence of the Lord Cernunnos and Lady Cerridwen, the Aspectists of Elvenesse and their allies will once again organise, recruit and train their people for war. Led and directed by some of the greatest commanders of both old and new, the revolutionary army of the reunited peoples of the Old Dominion of Malin will stand fast against all who would threaten its new island home, or those of its stalwart allies. When clad in the full bronze panoply of the Ceruiran, there is nothing but war and battle, nothing but defence of the aspectist faithful. COMMAND STRUCTURE | RHILIR | Khaine Csarathaire The Supreme commander of the Ceruiran’ forces, the Rhilir is empowered to hold complete power over the organisation, logistics and tactics of his Aspectist military. Despite this ultimate authority, the Rhilir is nevertheless obliged to heed advice from his ring of advisors and to defer to the commands of the Prince EXEMPLAR Therren Caliban The equivalent of captains, these experienced and competent leaders are those who deal with the smaller scale command of the military. Under the jurisdiction of the Rhilir, these officers distribute equipment to the troops, are permitted to host drilling and training sessions at their leisure, and are primary advisors to both the Rhilir and can attend councils of the state to advise in military matters. SENTINEL A fully blooded, trained and experienced initiate who is the standard rank and file soldier of Elvenesse. Those Sentinels chosen by their Exemplar superiors assist in running training sessions and are personally appointed to oversee the first weeks of an initiate’s time in the Ceruiran. RECRUIT A new enlistee of the Ceruiran, ready for moulding into a warrior of Cernunnos. | EVARI’II | A warrior of Elvenesse chosen for the physical abilities of cunning and strength, as well as the mental characteristics of loyalty and courage. They serve as the Prince’s elite guard, attending the sovereign in meetings and whenever he calls upon them for other tasks. THE MILITARY ASSEMBLY A good, politically engaged soldiery is a soldiery which fights with zeal and bravery for their nation. On regular occasions, the troops of Ceruiran will gather together either with one another, or with the rest of the citizenry, discussing and debating state issues on equal grounds with their commanders. TROOP VARIANTS SPEARBEARER Using a short Elven style stabbing spear and a straight-sided metal shield designed to resist missile weapons and form a wall with comrades, the spearbearer is ideally suited for battle line combat. The relatively simple nature of combat with a spear makes this role ideal for greenhorn fighters, as close contact with the enemy is not required. VANGUARD More experienced warriors using shorter, close combat weaponry such as swords and axes who serve as shock troops in combat. Rather than simply engaging from a reasonable range with longer spears, they get in close and use their superior technical skill, strength and agility to carve deep swathes into the enemy line SKIRMISHER For those whom physical combat is not their primary calling, due to a lack of melee skill or necessary physique, the role of a skirmisher or missile infantry is ideal. Commonly using a bow and arrows, but also possibly equipping themselves with slings or light throwing javelins, it is the job of a skirmisher to soften up the enemy before an engagement and to provide supporting fire when clashes begin. Enlistment Form | OOC | Minecraft Name: Discord ID: Timezone: | IC | Name: Combat Experience:
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