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The BloodVaine EpicChapter 86: The Battle For Orion's Gate
A thrill of pre-battle nerves rush through Bjarn, causing him to shiver. As the Forestmen army made their way over the last hill to the Gates of Orion, Bjarn went through the plan of attack yet again in his mind.
Forestmen archers fire, felling as many as possible before the Bulls charge. Cease Forestmen longrange fire. Ready spears. Dark Forest charge. Forestmen charge. Knight's Kindomer's stay behind to protect the healers. Wolfpack infilmtrate city as soon as gates have been breached. Arklyndelys Vulondur provides firepower and protection from above...
A horn sounded, and the Yellow Castle, it’s golden walls glimering in the dawnlight, appeared ahead.
How long will it be until those wall are stained with blood? Bjarn wondered.
Bjarn flexed his shoulders, his neck, his legs. Decked out in his old Misfits garb, he felt young and ready for battle. But he knew he wasn’t young.
Watch yourself, Bjarn. Last time you were fighting for your life on foriegn soil you lost an ear...don’t get carried away in bloodlust and do something you will regret.
They were close enough. Bjarn raised his hand and the Forestmen stopped. Gerald Vos, Willem Blackcloak, Lord Barbod all did the same, and with the Arklyndelys Vulondur hovering overhead, the Allied Army took it's last breath before the plunge, the final desperate plunge to save Dametreos.
“Archers, ready bows!” cried Bjarn, repeated by Voolmark, Gladwheel and Gonderin. Men and women at the rear withdrew their taunt yew longbow from thier backs and plucked the string made from deer and boar guts experimentally.
“Notch arrows!”
One thousand arrows were removed from quivers and notched carefully.
“Aim!”
Bows were raised to the heavens.
“Draw!”
Bowstrings stretched tight.
“Fire!”
With a whoosh, the one thousand Forestmen arrows sliced through the air, shafts of death on a collsion course with Dragon Master and Calvalier betrayers. Clustered together around the Orion Gate, the minions of BloodVaine presented a prime target. Shields were raised, but many shafts still found their mark in exposed arms, legs, hands, chests, necks and heads. Before the first volley of arrow had struck, another swarm of death had been launched into the sky, arcing menacingly.
“Archer, hold fire!”
Bows were lowered, and seconds later seventy-seven chariots bearing the Bulls insigna broke rank and charged down the hill, looking very much like the mascot animal displayed on their wooden sides. Leading them was Barbod, roaring at the top of his voice, “BLOODY FALCONS!”
Reno, Aros and Dordrot took up the cry, and soon the entire Bull army rank with the age-old battle cry. The Dragon Masters were still looking about for the ‘Bloody Falcons’, thinking they were going to get some back up from King Falconis XXVIII, when the chariots smashed into the front ranks like, well, so many bulls. Almost instantly some chariots shattered, crushing persons both infront and inside, but most, including Barbod’s, continued deep into enemy ranks until at last all chariors were hacked to pieces and the Bulls jumped out to battle.
Forestmen archers, unable to fire at the ranks of soldiers guarding the gate due to fear of hitting the Bulls were now aiming at the Calvaliers who patroled the walls of Yellow Castle, throwing an occational spear at an exposed Bull.
With a cry the Dark Foresters charged, not in a straight line, but weaving like some giant serpant, running sideways down the hill and avoiding arrows with a mixture of luck and skill.
There was no turning back now, both sides were commited. The was only one outcome to this battle. One side would win, one side would lose. Which side would it be?
Marus watched the proceedings from the back of the furthest division. He was in the battle all right. Lord Void had seen to that. Still, he had managed to arrange himself at the back of the last division.
“Tyco Lord Void,” Marus cursed, “Why couldn’t he just have killed me and gotten it over with? Oh, that’s right, he can’t incinerate me without losing his ‘innocent’ status. So what, he forces me into this battle against my will. Megablocks! It amounts to the same thing.”
In all truth, Marus wasn’t feeling himself. By his nature he was a cruel man and it amazed him to realize the time that he had passed without practicing it. Perhaps the traits of the Forestmen were rubbing off or maybe it was because he was free of the dragons.
Dragons. The very thought made him shudder.
“Stupid, ugly, vile, beasts.”
Marus reached up and touched his scar. It was barely distinguishable now, between the other scrapes that Griffin had afforded him, but he knew it just the same. Marus had been trying to escape from the dragons for what seemed like forever. He had too, but even that hadn't ended his troubles. Why, the more Marus thought about it the more he realized that he had been trying to escape from something, his entire life. If it wasn’t dragon land it was the Neverwood. If it wasn’t the Neverwood it was Lord Void and his airship. If it wasn’t Lord Void it was the goodie-two-shoes allies and their stupid war.
If there was one trait Marus hadn’t lost, it was his ability to loath everything. Now, as he looked on, the noise of battle came to him from the front of the army. But this noise had barely started when a fountain of green and red burst from the walls of Orion.
“Megablocks!” Marus swore, “I hate dragons.”
Meanwhile, above the troops in his airship, Lord Void winced. This wasn’t supposed to happen yet. By the plan, the troops should have been in the city before the dragons attacked. Inside there would be cover, but here there was little. Still it could have been worse. These dragons had riders. Vunerable riders. And Lord Void knew that the airship itself could be used as a weapon in a pinch.
“Come, Del Grakken, I will deliver you to the pit myself!”
When the dragons’ hot breath had hit the rangers nearly a third had either be burned or badly hurt. Berlock had been thrown off his horse and had been trampled by the Dragon Masters and their axes. He was killled instantly. When Frayla saw this she gasped. cried out “NO!” and cut a Dragons Master’s throat with her sleek knife. Suddenly there was another blast of fire from the dragon and Frayla went unconscious.
Frayla awoke to see the Bulls crashing into the Dragon Master line. She slowly got up with great pain and stumbled to find her knife.
There it was. Must get to it....must...
She grabbed her knife and bow and wobbled on her feet. She couldn't fight like this. Then she had a vision. Her mother crying out for help...her father. She could fight and she would.
With that she got up and charged the Dragon Masters. They had been somewhat surprised by the Bull attack and were stumbling around doing whatever they could to stop the onslaught.
Dordrot had nearly been flung from his chariot but he held on and speared a Dragon Master through the heart. He saw Barbod and Reno in front of him chopping, spearing and running over the Dragon masters. He also saw the men on top of the walls spearing some Bulls.
“Blindfar!” he shouted, “Get your bow out and give those men on the wall megabloks!”
“Yes sir!”
Then Dordrot turned his attention back to the fight. He skewered two more Dragon Masters and chopped the head off another. He was starting to enjoy himself.
“Take that...and that...and THIS.” he shouted and threw his spear at yet another Dragon Master.
Now the Dark Foresters were joining in on the battle and the Dragon Master were fleeing to the safety of the gate. But it was too late, the Wolfpack had now charged and they were cutting the Dragon Masters off from the gate. By now there were many men on the walls with bows, spears, and other small projectiles, some hitting their mark.
Gereld Vos slammed his golden kahli into the chest of a Dragon Master, then slicing upward, he cut the man in half. He let out a berserk scream as the rest of the Dragons, most of them shrieking terrifying cries to the sky, charged the Dark Foresters, who were still recovering. Gereld looked to the long ridge above the gate. The lincoln-green banner of Gladwheel’s Drullen Bell Rangers, emblazoned with an argent bronzetree, waved there, and a group of Dark Forest longbowmen loosed a volley at the approaching Dragon Masters. The Dark Foresters watched as the wave of green-tailed arrows hit the attackers, cutting some of the shrieks short with a sickening gurgle. Gereld ripped a spear from the ground and held it up so all the Dark Forestmen could see.
“LOUGHTON LINE!”
The legendary words echoed across the field. The Loughton Line. The great tactical move which, a century ago, routed a Crusader force at Loughton. The Dark Forestmen scrambled to form a tight shield wall, swords, spears, and axes held, ready to snap forward like a cobra’s jaws. The Dragon Masters, meters away, had little time to react. The shields deflected their first, mediocre blows, while the infantry stabbed forward. This first deadly assault decimated the Dragon's front line like a shockwave, over half of them falling dead. Now, the shield line broke into pure chaos, a frenetic melee, as the men seized the oppurtunity to further destroy the stymied enemy.
On the ridge, the Forestmen rangers watched as the Dark Foresters routed the Dragon Masters, only to hear the sound of hoofbeats close in. The rangers turned helplessly, only to be crushed under the iron-shod hooves of the Cross Knight cavalry.
Frayla had been the first to hear the hoofbeats of the Cross Knight cavalry but it was too late. The Cross Knight calvary slammed into the Rangers decimating their lines. The Rangers were in a panic. Caught off guard they had not been prepared for such a mercilus assault. Suddenly there was the sound of a projectile barrleing down on the Cross Knights. Lord Void had seen the Cross Knights before anyone and had ordered the Fright Knights to load the ballista and fire a few shots.
The surprise attack from above stopped the Cross Knights for a few seconds. It was just enough time for the Rangers to re-group. Frayla, not knowing what else to do and with no one else to take Berlock’s place, ordered the bowmen in the back, with a shield line in the front. The pikemen were placed in the middle with the swordmen behind them.
The Cross Knights assembled again and charged.
“Bows ready.” Frayla ordered, “FIRE!”
Some 50 Cross Knights fell but the rest kept coming. They hit the shield wall with full force and most of the Rangers in the front were cut down. But now that the Cross Knights were losing their momentum and the pikesmen cut them down. The first two lines of the Cross Knights were decimated, but the second wave of Cross Knights crashed into the pikemen. The pikemen held their own, though, and the Cross Knights were turned away. Then they came again this time getting a little further into the Ranger line.
The bloody battle was only warming up…
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