wolfdwg

does this on the one saturday I have to work... @squakhawku hate me...

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!”

@Telanir I thank you for stepping in on behalf of the community. You salvaged a desperately degrading situation. Again, thank you.

@KBRhas weak mental. But on a serious note. The current node system made by techies is horrible. I think the previous one on Almaris, 16 ingots per fifteen minutes was far, far more reasonable, just apply it to not just be one person putting the node on server-wide cd, but have it be a personal cd for all players.

Wars are not on, this is disappointing. That is all.

Honestly love warclaim videos. Monstamunches of Aegis/Early Asulon is what drew me to the server.

Without law, we are but savages destined to be writhing beasts in mire and stagnation. Purpose is given to those who serve the Imperium’s interest. Station and powers are afforded to those competent, the higher echelons deem worthy. When derelict of one’s duties, and personal ambition is sought over the true holders of power, a reminder is to be made. Thus I pen this official Rehabilitation Order to said individuals. ✠ Holyman Iudas Holyman James Vursur You shall either turn yourselves in at your immediate convenience or the Dragon Knight, Sir Corswain the Hospitaller; or any holy priest shall bring you in bindings before the Holy Imperator, his Imperial Majesty, Hadrian I, with the anointed priest Sir Corswain in attendance to enact judgment of your misconduct that you have acted without guidance of the True Faith. Adhere to this and no harm shall befall you; resist, however, and you shall find yourselves brigands, anathema to our Holy Imperium. Let the flame grant you wisdom, and not act a fool. HIS IMPERIAL MAJESTY, Hadrian I of the House Horen, by the Grace of GOD, Emperor of Man, Holy Imperator, King of Seventis, Salvus, Renatus & Oren, Duke of Middelan, Helena, Lorraine, Sunholdt and Reutov, Baron of Pestilles, Protector of Grense, Protector of the Heartlanders, Patriarch of House Horen & the Tiberian Dynasty, Captain-General of the Church, Defender of the Faith. ALEA IACTA EST HIS IMPERIAL EXCELLENCY, Sir Arn Honeywine, Grand Knight of the Empire of Man, Ordermaster of the Order of the Red Dragon, Fist of the Emperor, Badger of the Midden. OFFICIUM ET HONOS

Somewhere within the Realm of vast Imperivm Hvmanitas, the Grand Knight contemplates the fate of Gror and Corswain’s duel. The man had not truly hated Dawi, much to the chagrin of his demonization by them. He admired the warriors an thegns of the Mountain Clans. The industrious clans of the Underdark. Even the peaceful dwelling Forest Clans of the undergrowth. The Urguani had shown a remarkable resilience over the years, their will iron and resolve stone. Their ‘Grand Kingdom’ only ever disappearing once from the annuals of history, the dreaded War of the Beards where kin fought kin. Irongrinder and Frostbeards, Irehearts and Grandaxes, all battling for supremacy of their respective ‘Grand King’. Of the various names that were antagonists to the Realms of Man, Gror’s name appeared many times. How this stubborn dawi must’ve slain countless men before he was even born, the Grand Knight thought to himself. ”With their Champion slain, perhaps they will think twice before exiting the Goldleaf gap and coming north. Least they meet the same fate,” Sir Arn commented as he stared at the map of this continent. Another step in the heavenly ordained journey of the Birthright of Horen.

"Another banner joins our host in full. Together a mountain shall seem a pebble in your ascent to your divine right." The Grand Knight says to Hadrian in the Privy chambers as he hears of the Northmen host mustering. It was not long ago that Nord, Midlander, and Idunian took on the rest of Humanity. The shattered Highlandic and Southron realms were scattered before the united front, the same would befall the Urukim and Dawi.

✠ The Grand Knight led the push into the Urguani heartlands. He led the armies of Man and Malin into the stone deeproads. It was before the vast gates of Urguan that battle was had. Many of the defenders of this Coalition that called for his head and his Imperial Majesty's abdication lay dead, dying, or scattered. The banners of the Mountain were tossed into the ravine, and the banners of the Dragon were raised over the gates of Urguan. "They call for mine head, yet it still sits on my neck. Alas none can fell the Badger of Midden. For I shall lay low any foe, mine Emperor demands." Sir Arn in reflection of the Sack of Urguan. "AVE IMPERIUM"

“Heh,” Sir Arn Honeywine says as he orders the first troops to cross into Urguan.