The Jarithian War

[Sir Zeppelin]

"So ol' Benito has allied with the Prasdens," said George, scratching his chin. "Alfred won't like that."
"We better be getting over to the battle," said Erian, giving a worried glance at the sun. "How soon do you think the cavalry and dwarves will be here?" Erian asked the knight.
"They are roughly five miles behind us," said the knight. "If you set your lines up now, you will be able to use them as a hammer to crush the enemy's line, driving them home."
"Then we better be off!" said Erian, trotting his horse up a small hill and into the distance, George at his heels. Erian cupped his hands: "Bring them as soon as you can!" he hollered.
The knight and dwarf nodded, and rode back to their troops.

[Napoleon]

Robin watched a group of his best infantry get crushed by a charge of Normen knight cavalry. While Sir Reginald was trying to save the baggage train, the small gap created by his departure weakened the main line just a tiny bit; or so Robin thought. As soon as Reginald left, a group of previously hidden Normen soldiers attcked the gap; cutting Robin's forces in two.

"Oh, how I wish Eiran had not wasted those valuable troops! I could have used them in Reginald's place. And now there are hordes of Normen soldiers smashing into my army! Oh, Mighty Ferr, God of War, favour my plans! Lead Your faithful soldiers to victory over their enemies. I am but a humble Forestman, fighting for freedom. Give me the might to admit defeat, or give me reinforcements!" Robin pleaded while looking at the sky.

As soon as Robin was about to sound retreat, 7300 Telemarsian troops came thundering onto the battlefield.

One of Robin's aides, who had not seen the Telemarsian army, asked Robin, "Sire, should we retreat?"

Robin slowly pointed to the reinforcements and responded: "Retreat? I have not yet begun to fight!"

[Seikfreid]

The morale of Robin's men soared as the Telemarsians came thundering into sight. Fighting with renewed vigor, they had already begun to push back the enemy by the time their reinforcements arrived. The Normen lines crumpled and broke under the first wave of Telemarsians. Many men surrendered or simply threw down their weapons and fled at the sight of the thousands of cavalry charging at them. Robin brought his men around the flank and the Telemarsians completed the circle around the surviving enemy troops.

Many of those captured were wounded, and they expected the Allied soldiers to finish them off. However, the rebels did not function cruelly, and they treated the enemy warriors with respect, dressing their wounds and giving them rations. Seeing how kindly they were treated, many of the soldiers defected then and there.

Of course, there were those who grumbled and refused to let the Allies care for them.

"Traitors!" they said. "You filthy good-for-nothings! It is a pity you did not choke on the rations these...these wretched fiends gave you!"

Meanwhile, Robin and his fellow commanders had not yet finished their work.

"We captured and killed many soldiers, but the bulk of their army is still fighting at the front," said Robin. "Even of those who challenged us in this engagement, at least fifty escaped. If we do not catch them, they will bring their report to Jarith."

George shook his head. "It is too late. Those who escaped will have already reached a messenger or an outpost by now. It is more than likely that the Duke already knows that the Telemarsians have arrived to help us."

"Then," replied Robin, "we have two options. We can either regroup here, join up with the main force and mount a strong defense, or...."

"Or what, Robin?"

"Or we can catch the enemy off guard and strike them now!"

[Seikfreid]

A shadowy figure, wrapped tightly in a black cloak, sat thoughtfully atop his mount at the edge of the forest, overlooking the field where the battle had just taken place. His horse stamped impatiently and he stirred, calming the steed.

"Steady, boy. You'll get your chance." He sat a little while longer, lost in thought.

"Well, sir?" asked a similarly dressed figure beside him.

The first waited a moment before he made his reply. "William, what do you think?"

The second hesitated in his reply. "It's your decision, sir. You are our leader, and we will follow you to the end."

The first nodded slowly. "Then let it not be our end. It is time-time for our revenge. Tonight, we will begin our quest for vengeance. I will go and meet with the leader of these Allies. They will be very glad to accept our friendship!"

[Seikfreid]

William and the commander of the force met at the top of the ridge just after nightfall.

"Ready?" asked William.

The commander shook his head slowly. "Something does not feel quite right... it seems that there is something... out of place here," replied the commander. "Perhaps we should wait a little while first."

"Sir, perhaps it is just... nerves maybe?" asked William tentatively.

The commander merely chuckled. "No, William. My senses do not deceive me. You of all people should know that. Remember the Battle of Redmonton..."

William did remember, and quite well at that. His troops surrounded and at breaking point on the top of a hill, only the commander's enduring spirit and uncanny ability to predict the enemy's exact movements had saved all the men and won them a victory. But this? Here they were not surrounded. Here there were no enemy troops in sight.

Just as he thought this, a glint of steel in the moonlight not forty yards away caught William's eye. He was about to report his finding to the commander, but he could see that his superior already knew of the threat. William also knew what his commander wanted. He turned his mount and rode away silently to fetch reinforcements.

Once he was gone, the commander moved closer to the place where he had seen the flash of metal. Muffled sounds reached his sharp ears, and he was careful not to make any noises of his own. He peered through a thick bush and caught sight of a large company, maybe regiment or battalion strength, of strangely-dressed soldiers. Their armor was all blackened steel, and fastened over it were leaves and branches from the forest floor. On their heads they wore helmets covered with brambles and twigs, and masks of green and brown covered their faces. The commander was less than twenty feet away, but even at this close range he he could barely distinguish the men from the forest. They were camouflaged!

The commander had to admire the cleverness of the enemy unit commander for using these excellent disguises. But he also knew that it was his own forces who were the true masters of disguise. The commander backed away from his vantage point slowly as more odd-looking soldiers continued to file past toward the Allied camp. William was waiting just behind him with a large number of soldiers.

The commander nodded to William, who spoke in a whisper. "Alright men, here we begin our revenge. Iracionians...Forward!" With that, the cavalry unit swept down from the hill, catching the enemy camouflaged troops off their guard. The Iracionians' right flank struck at the enemy's rear, cutting down the soldiers before they could react or cry out. The second the rearguard began to organize a defense, the cavalry withdrew, leaving their enemies staring fearfully into the darkness. The left flank of the Iracionian troops struck next, hitting the Confederate lines from their unguarded front right. Shouts and the sounds of clashing steel erupted from the darkness. As soon as the Confederates turned their spears to the rear, the Iracionians had once again vanished.

The commander surveyed his enemy carefully, his night vision serving him well. A platoon of infantrymen surrounded his horse, and with them a full regiment of Iracionian elite heavy cavalry: the legendary Halucian Guard. The commander took one more look at his enemy's lines, making sure his troops had stretched the Confederate forces enough and that they were facing in all directions. This formation would provide very little defense against his cavalry.

Still, the commander was a wise veteran and never let arrogance or overconfidence control his actions. Every decision he made, even those that were instantaneous, he processed through his mind, assessing all the possibilities of his actions. Aside from being a great warrior, the commander was one of the greatest battlefield strategists of all time. He had read every page of writing on the subject of war known to man or any other race.

Satisfied, the commander drew his blade and raised it to the sky. The commanders of each section of his force watched him. He thrust the blade down and forward. Simultaneously, the left and right flanks and the Halucian Guard charged forward into the enemy lines with a cry. Led by the commander, the Guard had finished its work in a matter of seconds.

[Napoleon]

The Duke of Jarith paced back-and-forth. Again and again and again he paced before suddenly letting out a blood-curdling scream. He had just read a message from King Benito. It read:

To His Majesty, the Duke of Jarith from His Majestic Highness, King Benito X, King of all Normendy

I have sent you this message to inform you that our business with each other is done. I see no benefit for the People of Normendy in supportinting an arrogant, stupid Duke. Even though I dislike King Orion and all Ruratainia, I see no purpose in helping you to rebel against him. You, who is such a dull candle, that you fail to set up defenses against in-coming enemy Telemarsian reinforcements; something that even the biggest lack-wit in my army would have done! The Battle of Greenwillow River (one of the biggest military disasters in recent history) has told me something about you: that you are an incompetent, grossly stupid court jester with no more knowledge of how to run an army, much less a country, than a 10 year-old peasant-girl. I am ending our alliance.

Good luck without my help, His Highness, King Benito X

P.S. Beware! I suspect the Iracioans of plotting aginst you!

The Duke wadded the message up and threw it in a wastebasket.

“Sire!” a soldier burst into the Duke's room, “Oh--your safe! I thought they got you when I heard you scream.”

“I was screaming in frustration; Benito has deserted us,” the Duke responded sadly, but then added, perplexed, “They? Who is 'they?'” he asked while taking one of his all-too-often swigs from a bottle of rum. The rum enabled him to relax, but the Duke was known to be an uncontrollable chain-drinker; one swig led to another and another and another. Before he was done, he would often be passed-out on the floor.

“Well...uh...er...” stammered the guard, afraid of being the bearer of bad news. The Duke had a habit of killing messengers who told bad news.

“Well?! Well?! Speak up, man!”

“L-look out t-the...window, sire,” the soldier squeaked.

The Duke sprinted over to the window and opened the shutters; the Duke couldn't believe his eyes. In front of the castle, lay a vast Allied army. Forestmen, Telemarsians, Norvunda, Black Falcons, and... Iracioans. They had archers, catapults, under-miners, hand-cannons, knights, spear-men, swords-men, pike-men, and thousands of various bounty-hunters, rangers, and local peasant militia soldiers.

The Allies had surrounded the capital of Prasden. There was no way out.

The end...is nigh.

[Seikfreid]

EXCERPT FROM THE JOURNAL OF GRAHAM, CAPTAIN OF THE GUARD OF THE CAPITOL:

The morning was unusually quiet. The chirping of the birds that usually greeted my ears upon my waking was replaced by utter stillness and silence in the world around. From the first, I knew something was wrong. A thick mist covered the land around our walls for miles and the dark of the morning obscured my vision beyond that. There was a strange gloom that hung around the guard barracks, and the soldiers were quiet and reserved. I was deeply troubled and so I went into my study to read, to try and escape the dark mood of the men around me.

I had been there not forty minutes when a sentry knocked urgently at my door. I told him to enter and he bid me follow him to the wall-top. As I mounted the last steps, I drew in my breath sharply as I looked out at the countryside. The mist had since lifted from the valley floor. In its place stood an army greater than any I had ever seen assembled. Everywhere I looked, flags of the Forestmen, the Falcons, the Norvunda, and countless others, and a flag that I did not until later recognize as that of the Iracioans, fluttered silently in the breeze. There were catapults, ballistae, trebuchets, and all other manner of siege equipment. The army, silent and impassive, had surrounded the city.

We sit now, the Duke and I, in his private chambers, alone. He has passed out from his drinks and it is for the better. He has given up hope now-we all have. We are not used to fighting with these odds. Up til now we have outnumbered our enemies five to one in most battles. With the men of Normendy, the Allies now outnumber us over ten to one. We cannot hold the city; they have us surrounded. There is no way out. We are trapped, and if a treaty is not negotiated we will all die. There is no way out of the city!

[Napoleon]

Richard looked at the grand army assembled in front of his brother's castle; it was magnificent. He would finally see to it that his brother would abuse the people no more.

“Your armour is ready, sire,” said Cornelius, who was Richards squire.

“Good,” Richard said, looking at the handsome suit of metal. Cornelius then helped him into it piece by piece. After a half-hour, Richard was ready.

The Black Falcon-provided trebuchets were ready to fire; just waiting for orders to fire. Following orders from Robin, at nine in the morning they launched huge boulders on an especially weak part of the castle's wall. After an hour of launching the terribly destructive rocks, the wall crumbled. A huge entrance into the castle presented itself, and Richard was going to take advantage of it.

At a wave of his hand, his Telemarsian foot soldiers moved forward. Prasden arrows fell all around, slicing through his ranks. But they held. They were going to reach that wall. They could and would make it to that wall and take out the mad dukes inside. This was it, the final battle.

While still a ways from the castle wall, a few Prasdens were attempting to build a defensive wall. They were apparently under the command of a knight dressed in black armour. It was then Richard realized who it was: The Duke of Bloxford. He could tell it was the Duke from the golden bull head mounted on top of his pot helm. Richard couched his lance and charged.

[Seikfreid]

Soldiers stood in his way, but Richard merely knocked them aside as if they were toys. Occasionally he dodged an arrow or two, but his focus was on one person, and one person only. Telemarsian soldiers charged through gaps in the Jarithian defenses, but Richard forced his own spaces in the lines. The Duke of Bloxford had not yet noticed Richard bearing down on him; a good sign for the charging commander.

Richard's horse whinnied as the low wall the Prasdens had created neared. When Richard made no move to steer away, the horse tensed every muscle in its body and leaped. The jump carried Richard up and over the wood and stone of the barricade, over the pikes of the enemy and over the arrows that were shot on a lower trajectory. As Richard's lance-point drove down, the Duke of Bloxford looked up. He raised his arms and ducked instinctively, and that was the only thing that saved him. The lance shattered upon the shield the Duke had strapped to his arm, and with it the Duke's arm also shattered. The Duke collapsed in pain, groping around for his sword, while Richard fought to stay on his horse. He finally gained control of it and it reared up high on its legs.

By now the Telemarsians had reached the Prasden infantry, and both sides had completely forgotten their two leaders, now locked in combat. Richard, always honorable, had dismounted his horse and drawn his sword. The Duke was up and the two circled each other, slowly, slowly. Then they charged each other. The clash that followed lasted only a second due to the pain in the Duke's shield-arm. Richard disengaged and discarded his own shield.

"There, Duke!" he called. "Now it is a fair fight!"

"This has never been a fair fight!" protested the Duke of Bloxford.

"You should have taken that into consideration before you joined Jarith!"

The Duke snarled and charged at Richard, swinging his mighty sword. Richard raised his own weapon and the two blades collided with a loud clash.

[Albatross_Viking]

"My lord, you called?", asked the knight as he stepped into the dukes private chamber.
"Yes, i did", replied the duke with a slow, depressed voice. "How does the situation look?" he then asked.
"Very bad, sir. Allied forces are all over our city. Their trebuchets have broken down a section of the wall to the south, and telemarsian infantry come swarming through the breach. And to the south-west, countless siegetowers and ladders filled to the brim with Norvunda and Iracioans have already reached the wall".
The duke´s shoulders slumped at the news.
"Well, then hurry back and keep those vermin out!", he shouted at the knight, who soon was out of the door.

[Napoleon]

Richard smacked his sword down on a meddling soldier, "Tell your men to back off, Duke! This shall be a fair fight!"

The Duke waved his hand at his men, "Keep the Telemarsians out! Don't worry about me, I can handle myself."

"Ah, but can you handle a sword?" Richard sarcastically asked.

The two fought on. Duck, parry, smack, cut, smash, and hack. Richard finally managed to hit Bloxford's head, but the golden bull ornament prevented Richard' sword from piercing the Duke's helm.

Meanwhile, the half-drunken Duke of Jarith stumbled off his chair. He walked to his window and saw the Duke of Bloxford and Richard battling it out, “Brother...YOU are the source of most of my problems! You and those stinking Forestmen! No more...I will kill you, here and now! I may lose today, but you shall not win!” he cried. He stumbled drunkenly over to a Bloxfordian supply chest and attempted to open it; it was locked. Seeing an axe that was mounted on a coat of arms on his wall, the Duke pulled it off and cut the chest to pieces. Inside were a couple of swords and knives...and one hand-cannon. The Duke took the gun and shuffled back to his window; the Duke of Bloxford and Richard were still there. Jarith aimed the gun(which he did not know how to use), muttered a curse, and made ready to pull the trigger. In his drunken state, he could not hope to aim properly, and, even when sober, he was no warrior-duke. He stared at Richard, lit the fuse, and fired. At first, it looked like it would hit Richard, but then it curved wildly and smashed into Bloxford's chest; killing him instantly.

The Duke threw the gun out of his window in frustration, “Go to Agaste, Richard, you traitor!” he screamed. Suddenly, he thought he saw someone in the adjoining dining hall. Pulling out a dagger, he walked slowly into the room. Just then, the Duke collapsed in agony, clutching his chest, “It is nothing, just too much to drink,” he muttered. He got up and proceeded into the hall. Then he saw him. Robin was sitting in the Duke's chair, at the end of the long table. Robin had his feet on the table, and he was eating a piece of roast beef.

“Well, well, well...” said Robin calmly, “Who is this?”

“Who indeed!” Robin responded to himself in a high-pitched voice.

“I say, we give 'im a trial,” Robin said in a different low-pitched voice.

“Get out, you fiend!” shouted the Duke madly.

“Oh, I am afraid that is quite impossible,” said Robin in his normal voice, “Me and my friends here aren't through with your trial!”

“What trial!” the Duke thundered.

“Why, your trial for war-crimes, of course! Killing non-combatants, and treason against Ruratainia.”

“Are you mad!”

“Angry yes, crazy no,” Robin responded with a smirk, “Now I say before the gentlemen of he court, that the death sentence should be carried out upon this dastardly villain.”

“Agreed!” Robin shouted multiple times in the different tones of voice; the “jury." Robin's mock trial sentenced the Duke to die.

“You can't kill me! Guards! Guards! Guard-AAH!” the drunken, frenzied Duke collapsed; dead of a heart attack.

Robin grinned and walked out of the room. All he said was: “Too much drinking. Tsk, tsk, tsk.”

[Albatross_Viking]

The time of the Prasden Confederation was over. With the death of the Duke of Bloxford, the Confederate soldiers at the breach began retreating. Up on the western walls, the Iracioan and Norvunda attacks also became too much for the Prasdens. And at the western gate, Allied spies got the gate open, and Black Falcons stormed in and mowed down all resistance. And when the news of their leaders death inevitably reached the soldiers, more and more began to throw down their weapons and surrender.
Up on the walls, Eiran and William lead their troops against the faltering Prasdens.
"Forwards! For freedom!", shouted William.
"And whisky!", added Eiran, and the two commanders grinned at each other as they forced the Prasdens longer and longer back.
Down by the breach, five Prasden soldiers were running away from the battle. They reached a corner, and a head suddenly showed up from behind it.
"BOOH!", shouted Baldwin. The Prasdens stopped imediately, and soon began running in the other direction as 7 other allied soldiers came around the corner.

[Napoleon]

As Baldwin and a few Allied troopers began binding a batch of surrendered Prasdens, Richard, Robin, and George galloped past them.

"I hear that this is the last pocket of resistance!" shouted Robin over the noise of the hooves.

"Yes!" confirmed Richard, "I hope they give up without much fighting, after all, these are my fellow Jarithians!"

"I think your knight training has helped you immensely! You have got some real courage!" yelled George.

“Thank you, George!” Richard responded. Richard readied his lance, as did Robin and George, and they smashed into an infantry square. At the center of the square was the last un-surrendered duke: the Duke of Foxbourough. The Duke was known to fight to the last man, and he was living up to his reputation.

Robin and his friends realized that they couldn't defeat the square on their own, and were about to turn around when a regiment of Ruratainian infantry arrived. Robin, Richard, and George looked on in surprise as the regiment advanced in turtle formation; using their huge square shields to form a perfect battering ram. They didn't even run, they actually marched, but when the steamrolling effect hit the Prasdens, the square broke apart and the Duke's men ran for their lives. The Duke himself drew his sword, mounted his war-horse, and flung himself at the turtle formation. Within seconds, he was on the ground and under arrest. Robin and his friends escorted him to the nearest prison wagon.

****************************************************************************************************************************************
Robin and Elwyn stood on one of the battlement's of the Duke of Jarith's castle. From there, they surveyed the destruction.

“After losing all these men, Jarith will be hard-pressed to find enough soldiers for his duchy,” stated Elwyn.

“Agreed, but I think Richard can bring his duchy back into prosperity; the people love him,” said Robin, while hoisting the banner of Ruratainia on a flagpole,” Are you going to stay and help him out, or are you coming with me to join the Forestmen?” he asked him.

“Neither,” told Elwyn, “I aim to be an adventurer. Maybe I'll go down to the Black Falcon colonies and explore native territories.”

“That's a dangerous job, and we will miss you,” responded Robin sadly, “You are always welcome here, and just ask if you want anything.”

“I just want to see those treacherous dukes hang tomorrow. Along with that stinking Captain Calius. What do you think'll happen to Major Dawson?”

“He is going to use his fortune to continue researching better ways of making firearms. I hope he succeeds, as they could be very useful to armies all around Castleland and New Castleland. I know the Black Falcons will buy anything that has the Dawson Company's logo on it. They are already in the process of creating entire divisions made up of hand-cannoneers.”

[Albatross_Viking]

"This is indeed the most suprising raid i´ve ever been on", Eirans second in command, Thorgar said to his captain as they looked out over the city from the walls of the Duke of Jariths castle.
"I agree. I´d never expected to be involved in a whole war when we landed here in Ruratainia. Its actually quite a time ago", Eiran agreed.
"I miss the sea", the other man muttered.
"So do i. And every single Norvunda how have been with here, i suppose. But on the other side, we´ve done something good for our country. This war should´ve helped on our relations with many other countries".

They saw a flickering movement to the right of them, and turned to look. On the battlements sat a duck. Its colour was a mix of darkgreen and -brown, with some almost golden flight feathers, and a lightblue chest.
"What? The... Arlean..." murmured Eiran.
"Sir? What is it?", asked the other man.
"Its... my wife... before we two met... she had a duck like this... completely", was the answer. The duck jumped from the battlements and flew out over the city and disappeared. They went to go down from the walls, when Eiran heard the sound of someone playing on banjo and singing. He stopped and looked around. And on the thatched roof of a house sat a man, and it was him who was playing and singing. He was however long away, and his words were swallowed by the wind. Eiran called back Thorgar. But when they looked for the man again, he was gone.

[Seikfreid]

Eiran was troubled by what he had seen, but he shook the feeling for the time being and went to join Robin and the others in the hall that now belonged to Richard.

"Come along, Thorgar," said Eiran. "We've a party to attend!"

The celebration in the keep's chambers lasted for several hours and into the night. King Alfred was there, along with King Albert, Richard, Robin, Eiran, Elwyn, and all the others. There was feasting and drinking, and all the soldiers that had fought for the Allies were put on short guard shifts throughout so that all had a chance to attend the festivities. The old Duke of Jarith's best wines were brought forth from the cellars, along with cheeses, ripe meat, vegetables, and fruits of all kinds. The most famous breads of the duchies were laid out on huge platters, and there was enough for all to partake of the fine fare.

After the main supper, pastries and danishes supplied by King Albert of the Black Falcons were savored by all. Then order was called and the leaders of each Allied faction rose to speak. The acoustics of the hall were good enough that the sound carried out across the courtyard, reaching the ears of most of the soldiers. All spoke of the bravery and valor of their men, and of the unity amongst the Allies. They swore to be true to each other in every time of need, no matter what the cost to their own nations. The Alliance that had been formed would never be broken.

Finally, in the morning, it was time for sad and sometimes tearful farewells. The shadowy Iracioans took their leave, promising to return again if ever they were needed. The Telemarsians, chipper and spirit-raising folk, made everyone laugh before they departed. Upon the urging of Robin and Alfred, the men of the other nations stayed yet a while longer. The city wall was rebuilt and a new economy was put into place. After a season of peace, the Norvunda, the Falcons, and the others finally made ready to say their farewells to their dear friends.