Dogs of War - Ivesk

It takes a good hour to get in position, and runners inform you as much.


"On your orders, sir."


When you give the word, you'll have ten minutes to prepare to charge, another five before the first cavalry hit.


At your command.
 
With all his eagerness, there is little delay before the man responds.


"No time to waste. Send the word."


Still, Ivesk welcomes the few minutes of further preparation - gives him a bit more time to attempt to calm down a bit. And fail, if his earlier tries are any indication. It's hard enough to give orders in the chaos of the battle without being excited even before it happens.


Oh well. He'll manage.
 
It is time. You crest the ridge, and can see the camp ahead. The thundering hooves of the cavalry approach the flank; arrows rain from the forest. The enemy seems to be in disarray.


Time to charge.

I've decided Ivesk needs more stats to be a reasonable representation of his rank. Spend 70XP (no skill above 5, no Attribute above 4) and then let me know to edit in the roll here.
 
The veteran takes a deep breath as he looks over the battlefield, making sure to note the general state of affairs - after all, it's the last moment he'll have a chance to see things from afar and judge them if not calmly, then at least without all sorts of distractions. Naturally, as time is of essence, he only allows himself a short moment of analysis before reaching out to point his weapon at the foes before them.


"For Holm's End! For H'Kaer! Charge!"


The next few moments turn into a blurred sequence of images and feelings - the ground seemingly shaking as his forces rush forward, the scenery turning into streaks of colour as he does the same... and of course the flush of adrenaline, complete with the thumping of his own heart imitating that of a war drum.


As the chaos of combat draws ever closer, a part of him wonders if he could ever live without this.


Not likely.


[dice]2371[/dice]
 
Your men collide with the Kromsian degenerates like a wave against a lean-to, scattering them like dice across the plain. You and your troops fight like a well-oiled machine and cut them down. The cavalry hits like a hammer and collapses their flank like a lung pierced by an arrow.


The reek of death would be unbearable if it weren't so familiar; like a chronic nightmare.


And yet you don't see their commanders. They must be here somewhere, though - the only reason the rank-and-file troops of Kroms continue to fight, with their negligible armour and worthless arms, is because they fear the displeasure of their masters far more than death on your spears.
 
Troubling... the most likely case for the Vampires' curious absence is an attempt to spring some sort of ambush. They aren't very fond of retreating, after all. It's not unlikely they have seen the retaliatory strike coming, it wasn't exactly a new strategical move. Nor a tactical one for that matter - so if they had half a brain and some knowledge of their opponent, maybe they expected how the assault would go.


It would be doubtful with a regular adversary - after all, who sees an attack coming and lets their troops be slaughtered like this? But with Vampires, well. Par for the course.


Still, ambush or not, not much to be done right now. Only choice is to keep the men at the ready and an eye out for danger. Any monster or savage appears, they die.
 
As the melee continues, the earth splits and bursts nearby, and one of their foul leaders crawls out. Hidden tunnels? It takes to the air on leathery wings and flies right for the archers.


Meanwhile, one of the front rank of your unit cuts down a Kromsian - but the shape flickers, fades. Disguise! A Vampire stands amidst your men where once there were only savages. They howl with renewed vigor as the lithe, clawed shape raises it's blade.

Morale roll, then another attack roll. Or you can duel it while the fight goes on around you.
 
Tempted though he may be to face the vampire personally, Ivesk holds back - he knows all too well how much a bout of unnecessary heroism can cost when it comes to warfare. And it's not as though fighting in the open is his specialty.


Instead, he does his best to bolster the spirits of the troops through a bit of shouting, then direct their assault against the monster.


Numbers and a lot of caution. That's how you kill a Vampire.


[dice]2560[/dice]


[dice]2561[/dice]
 
Morale doesn't falter - if anything you drive the troops to greater valour, striking to keep the vampire from it's underlings and hit it from all sides. Unfortunately, it's fast, so damnably fast. Five of your men fall under the cruel, curved blade. Some of them losing arms, others their heads. That does shake morale, and worse, you see another twice the height of a man charging towards the fray, seemingly out of nowhere.


This one is wounded, though, if someone can manage a stab with their Purifier...


Screams all around. What happened to the archers?
 
It may be no time for unnecessary heroism, but it's definitely the right moment for the needed kind - and Ivesk would rather be damned than let his men die due to an ambush they actually saw coming. They set out to teach the savages and beasts a lesson, not get torn apart in the attempt.


He grits his teeth and grips the Purifier tighter before rushing forward, ducking and weaving through the chaos of the battle towards the incoming giant. There is no roar as he charges - even now he has enough clarity of mind to know it's best not to intentionally draw the Vampire's attention. It will surely notice him anyway, no reason to make it easier.


Here's hoping the men hold out on their own for a few moments.


And that he doesn't miss.


That'd be good too.


[dice]2634[/dice]
 
Last edited by a moderator:
The Vampire grasps your Purifier in one hand as you thrust forward, pushes back, and uses the haft to leverage you up, cutting the wood with its blade as you hurtle up.


You sail a good few feet into the melee, clutching a length of reinforced wood. Surrounded by savages.


But that glaive is still wrapped and strapped to your back.

3 Condition Damage
 
Last edited by a moderator:
The veteran grits his teeth in anger, clutching the remains of the haft. Not exactly what you'd like to be using against... how many savages?


Too many, most likely. And he's somewhat winded from flying over here. And hitting the ground afterwards.


The glaive... logic dictates he use it. But all he knows about deals with supernatural is... well.


He is more than fine with it, if that's what victory costs him. But no reason to hurry it up. He only needs to hold out for a bit, the men will get here soon enough.


[dice]2636[/dice]
 
Axes rain upon you; the first you manage to deflect onto a pauldron, but the rest slip by your defences. Your limbs and belly are bruised, but the excellent armour of the Hammer's forges wards off any real harm until one clubs you in the ribs with a length of oak covered in metal studs.


You feel a rib crack under the blow as your men cut down the savages and get to you, helping you to your feet, forming a defensive line.


"Orders, sir?"

-10 Condition overall. -2 to all physical rolls, -2 Health due to internal bleeding.
 
Ivesk does his best to disregard the pain and chaos of the battle. Not an easy task, but something necessary if he's to give the right orders... or even review the situation. Can't see or hear arrows flying - the archers probably got ambushed as well. Not much to be done, but it has to be taken into consideration. The savages will probably be more coordinated now that Vampires are around - at least as much as savages can be at their best. Enough to be concerned. Now, the best course of action...


[dice]2736[/dice]
 
Withdrawal. You're not beaten, but this calls for discretion. Pull back, regroup, renew the assault.


One of the troops - Corporal Triana - hands you her Purifier and draws her sword.


Blood showers your squad as the towering Vampire lifts a man, holds him by thighs and chest, and twists him in half.
 
The veteran shakes his head as the Corporal hands him her weapon. She'll need it... and he does have another weapon of his own. Though one he really hoped to delay using for a while longer. But with the situation being as it is... well, Vandal wasn't that bad. Letting him go probably won't cause many problems, save for the Quill being disappointed. Something easily balanced by the glory of winning this battle. And they will prevail, there's no doubt - or at least any doubts present are muted out by the unwavering refusal to give up this chance at glory.


Unstrapping the glaive and grasping it tightly, the Major turns to nearby troops, raising his voice to be heard over the noise of combat.


"We fall back. For now." The excitement present in his voice before this began is replaced by plain old determination, especially as he emphasizes the second sentence. This is his last shot. They won't lose.
 
The troops strike, retreat, strike in neat, controlled patterns. One or two give their lives to hold back the Vampire as the rest get into a better position.


Now the whole army - what remains, you estimate a good 60% losses, now, not counting the archers and their guards - you can regain control of the engagement.


The remaining savages equal about half your force, but they're lead by the swordsvampire and giving the giant one a terrified berth.
 
The commander grits his teeth as he looks over the state of affairs - in anger for losing so many, but mostly in pain. He takes a quick moment to regain full composure (after all, can't let the men see) before shouting to the remaining forces.


"Let's show the beasts and savages the fury of H'Kaer! All together!"


[dice]2763[/dice]


Luckily, it seems the soldiers weren't shaken enough to ignore the call - or at the very least, that Ivesk's inspiring presence worked better than his body did at the moment.


"For Holm's End!"


Well... glory or disaster.


[dice]2764[/dice]
 
The swordsvampire dies, fallen under the weight of Purifier shards. The savages are massacred. All that remains is the giant, blood staining its massive fists. The third is flying back from the forest. No arrows follow it.


And... something like cavalry is approaching from the North. No, just one rider.


What is that? Too large to be horse...


The giant hurls itself at your men, silent.
 
Keeping an eye out for the flying beast and... whatever that might be, the officer does his best to coordinate his men in surviving the enormous vampire's attack - and of course, in counter-attacking. The damn thing's faster than it should be, and not as dumb as one might have expected, so merely moving out of the way is pointless. And Ivesk was always against sacrificing those under his command... but he's really in no condition to charge personally. Even his stubbornness isn't enough to mask it.


On the other hand... the flying Vampire is likely to join the fight really soon - and the same goes for the rider. Facing two will be bad enough. Facing three will be nearly impossible with the current forces.


The Major takes a deep breath, clutching the haft of the glaive tighter. Damn it all.


"Spread out and surround it, I need it in place!"


Death or glory, right?
 
Last edited by a moderator:
The men spread out, moving fast, keeping their blades forward. A few even pepper the giant with arrows from an outer ring while the rest get just close enough to lock it down. When it sees you approach, it changes stance, ignores your men. Maybe it wanted a duel.
 
The veteran grits his teeth, leaning forward and pointing the glaive at the giant. It wants a duel, hm? That certainly makes things easier.


With a loud shout, the officer rushes towards the Vampire, drawing the polearm back as he runs and delivering the thrust at the very last moment.


The question, of course, is whether it will manage to pierce any remotely vital place. If not... well.


He'd better.


[dice]2801[/dice]
 
It makes no effort to defend itself, seemingly content that you cannot pierce the armour. The tip of the golden glaive leaves a bloody gash in one land, at the thigh, but the giant raises its fist-


-a flash of blinding light, a vision of impossible spires and winged figures, of swords in flight and a sun encased in wings of lead-


- and recoils, as if burned. Light seems to emanate from somewhere close - the glaive? It feels so light in your hands.

Ivesk is now Taint Rank 1, 0/100 points.


He has access to Excellence – Allows rerolls of failed dice, 1 per Rank. 5 Taint


When using the Glaive, all combat rolls receive a 2 die bonus.


At the cost of 10 Taint, Ivesk can now increase his Bearing, Dexterity, or Fitness by 1 for 2 rounds.
 
To say the man is somewhat confused would be... perfectly accurate, actually. He expected something to happen, after all, just maybe not this specifically. But it was effective, which was all that mattered right now - and there was no time to waste on overthinking. He can worry about what changed and how after the Vampires are no longer a threat. Which means...


He shakes his head, almost imperceptibly, to clear out the visions and distracting thoughts. His eyes snap back to the hulking brute of a Vampire, likely getting over its own confusion - and he steps forward, pushing the glaive forward, tip aimed at the monster's neck.


One could argue recklessness would only get him killed. But there are still two more of the damn things coming, and he's not fighting three at once, with or without the... improvement?


[dice]2808[/dice]


[dice]2809[/dice]
 
The golden blade bites through armour and muscle in a spray of arterial blood. The monster isn't dead, but it seems shaken, taking a huge step back. It swings for you, but your troops interrupt and harry it with spears, leaving it open for another strike.
 
You must log in or register to reply here.

Users who are viewing this thread

Total: 2 (members: 0, guests: 2)
Back
Top