This brought a resounding cheer from his men, which lifted their fists to mark respect for their leader, their General.
Line upon line of bowmen were now in the foot hills, where in the distance they could see the rise of darkness, as though hell itself had unleashed its own vile army against them. Hordes of orcs, trolls, and demons. Fires were lit along each of the rows of bowmen, who stood at the ready to fire as soon as the call was given.
Well back, the King and the Throne Ira sat high in the saddle, as they both marveled at the sight of the fifty thousand soldiers, that had come to fight for the sanctity and peace of all of the Vaas lands. Many this day would die. But truth be told, in death there is glory…..for to fight under the banner of God, is to bring ever lasting life through him.
“For Orion.” King Henry uttered, and Ira nodded. “As God is our witness, may our army be victorious.”
The nightmare that it had become upon the land was unlike anything that many had ever experienced.
King Brandon was ready for the real battle. His soldiers were hardened and trained. Having come from the wars, they were
not unversed in handling carnage. As the snarls and roars of the trolls and orcs could be heard the rest of the horde also threw up war cries. The mood became even more dark. The King’s shadow lengthened the field as he threw his presence over them. The power of his dominance emboldening them and increasing their fury. The blood rang in their ears as the finally reached the edge of the battle.The King as High General of the armies ordered the flags to send forth the horde in divisions across the field. In his new armor he looked like even more evil, his true form was emboldened by its power. The holy protection it afforded made it even more dark, hideous and evil. The knights he kept in a tight formation as was his want around himself. Allowing joffrey to lead the array of demons. The Orcs and Trolls began a smash and move tactic moving in two different directions upon the field to flank the angels forces. The witches took to air begining to unleash their magical fury upon them. The Warlocks led by Magnus worked in the vanguard to guard the rear of the army preparing a magical attack. The nature of which was guarded but involved a very special feather.
As the King waved the flags above the onslaught and the cries were screamed with fury he yelled loudly…
” Kill them all! Leave no angels alive!”
Immediately, those bowmen fired off volley after volley of flaming arrows, that illuminated the night sky. The war had begun, and then the horns blastered as the King himself joined with the light horseman. His brother, Ira the Throne of God did so as well. They would be brother at arms, till the very end. The charge of the calvalry began, as ten thousand horseman broke from the ranks of the archers and foot soldiers, who ran in after the massive wave of horseman. The deafening sound of horses charging across the planes, was a sight few would ever forget. With right hands clasped upon swords, and their left hands holding the reigns, they thundered towards the King’s army, and his knights.
Prince Sirus heard the roar and kicked off his horse, part of the front wave of horseman. He wore the emblem of Casterly, but also the ribbon of Tempest. His final moment with her etched into his memory, and if he should die on this battle field, then he would have at least known what it was like to have loved another. Riding in hard behind him was Klaus, the unwilling squire. Caught up in this war, he made a promise to a dying King that he would protect Prince Sirus with his life. This was not how he saw himself doing it, but none the less, he roared with pride as he rode the enormous draught horse into battle.
Closer and closer the horseman came, as the fired arrows that were aflame, started to rain down on the orcs from high above. Many would get their targets, with the blooded cries of the wounded being drowned out by the thundering hooves of the Casterly light horse. The King was one of the first in, and with the sweep of his sword, an orc’s head was cleanly decapitated, and left a headless body standing, before crumpling in a heap on a soon to be blood red battle field.
“Nar Mat Kordh-Ishi”
(Translation ~Do not die in bed.~)
The battalion of Orcs Reinforced by the line of trolls began to hack and slash their way through their lines. Holding their shields some were able to stop the raining volleys others fell but non waivered as they continued the charge.
Rending and Tearing any that managed to fall in their path and were not felled by the first rush of their cavalry.
Magnus had begun the invocation and was working behind the knights. The quiet that seemed to pervade the group of warlocks seemed eerie as it was almost devoid of any sound as if a vacuum existed over that section of the battle.
A blackness was slowly enveloping the field from the rear. The very air was sparking and could be seen from a distance as a power slowly enveloping them in darkness.
~Things aren’t always what they seem, get out of my way….You’re in my DREAM!~
The first wave of the light horse of the Angel army headed straight for the orcs front line, with the beasts taking the brunt of the attack, along with the flaming arrows hurtling down from the skies, fired at will by the elven lines. The trolls came into their own, hacking and slashing, with both angel and horse falling foul to the might of the troll garrison. Now with the thick of the fighting underway, it was the soldiers on foot that began their charge, and as the orcs lowered their long spears, to take up the oncoming mass, the Prince of Brax raised his sword and roared for all his demon brother to hear.
“KUKaeoh-seew seeah seewae waheezae ah-bae PEohz-seeae-lu-deoo oh-fe-kuk oh-de-de qwah zae-lu-jaeae wae-lu!”
(translation : “Death to the house of Casterly and all who serve her!”)
This was the sign, and the roar of the trumpets sounded as over an army five thousand strong of all manner of demonic creatures, took to the skies, as well as thundered forward on mass. A teeming sea of horned and winged creatures, led by the Prince, who rode high in the saddle, right towards the wave of soldiers and Knights on their horses. As he approached one knight, he swung with his demon blade, the metal singing through the air as it met with the Knight’s chest plate, knocking him clean off his mount and falling into a heap on the ground. Laughing with a twisted rise to his voice, Prince Joffrey jumped free from his horse, and went straight to the fallen Angel, raising his blade with the point faced down, and then slammed it clean into the armour, piercing it easily and a spray of blood shot up from the entrance wound, smearing Prince Joffrey’s blackened armour. The Prince twisted the sword for good measure and then reefed it out, his head turning left and right, till finding another target for his blood lust. All around him, demons took on the angel soldiers; the sound of death rising, screams of horror and then the clash of metal as swords were used to strike blows. At this point it was hard to tell who had the upper hand.