War Progression Story Sendrassian War - Take The Head And The Body Will Fall

“And so, General Kreiburg, you will support …” the Grand Marshal’s voice drained on. Abelhard knew what he was there to do anyway, it shouldn't matter too much what the land forces were doing in his mind. He perused the command tent, each face familiar to the once lowly Avanthar, now ennobled, an Admiral in his own right with his own personal retinues. The Grand Marshal’s plan was quite a simple one -- Abelhard Latimer would escort the Grand Army comprising the Grand Marshal himself, Theopold Kreiburg, Hans Nowotny and Eddair Mac Conall to the Northern shores of Bexestaan to rid the Island of the 40,000 Sendrassian occupiers that had been plaguing the Qar Digmaan’s sovereignty there for the last few months. “We’re going to eradicate every last droplet of influence the Sendrassians have on that Island.” Eddair proudly proclaimed, prompting Abelhard to huff a small exhale of amusement. Muzhu Al-Vyzal leant inward, muttering something into Abelhard’s ear -- as was accustomed in these formal meetings. “I’ve never understood the bloody thirstiness of Regalians.” the Allar crooned. A singular nod notified his captain that Abelhard was listening, all before Reimar turned his attention to the Admiral. “Are we ready to depart, Admiral Latimer?” It was a simple question from the Falkenreich, one that only required a simple answer. “Ready as we ever will be, Grand Marshal. Though I do beg for swiftness. The seas are looking choppy as is.” A single hand gesture dismissed the command tent, and with it, Abelhard.


Within a matter of hours, all 23 ships in the Latimer Armada were setting sail South to the Island of Bexestaan with a massive army of 140,000 men, all in countless dozens of transport ships, in tow. Aboard his command ship and at the helm of the beast, Abelhard signalled to Eigoth Latimer, Mosmo Duviri and Jasper Cassim to join him on deck. All three hastened to their Admiral’s call, standing at attention with a practiced Imperial salute. “We’re approaching our destination. Ready the nautical flags and begin signalling formation. Once we are positioned, await my call. We are to bombard the coastline in preparation for the transports landing.” “Aye aye, Admiral!” they chuntered back, sprinting to their stations and waving their flags around in practiced synchronicity. Upon the waters, Captains Victane de Piedmont, Anne de Piedmont and Sa’eeb the Asha passed the signal along and in unison, the armada cut through the waves and advanced into a line of battle, readying their cannons upon the starboard bow. Victane, Anne and Sa’eeb waited on Abelhard’s word -- which came booming, inciting every other sailor aboard his vessel to explode with the same, singular word -- “FIRE!” One by one, the cannons popped and peppered the sandy shoreline of the Northern portion of the Island, peppering it and the jungle line further in with cannonfire. However, there was little there to actually hit, so they only really managed to level a few dozen yards of trees. Abelhard shook his head. “Orders were orders.” he mumbled to himself. The transport ships were made to dock and thousands of smaller rowboards ferried the troops to shore for Hans Nowotny to make his debut. Cannonfire continued all the while, all twenty odd ships bombing the jungle right up until the point the Admiral was certain that the Regalian Armies were safe to land.

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The first State Army to beach upon the targeted Bexestaan was the relatively new name to the Sendrassian conflict -- Hans Nowotny. Under his command waited a whopping 45,000 troops, all eager to see conflict and fresh from the shores of the Regalian Empire. The booming sound of cannonfire striking the coastline from the Latimer warships brought about an abhorrent ringing in their ears, made even worse with the chronic creaking and moaning of the ships wooden frame as it drifted closer to their landing zone. By the end of the hour, the shelling of the coastline had stopped and thousands of Regalian clad soldiers marched over the dunes and toward the dense jungle roads. As Hans had ordered, Field Commanders Rudolf Adler, Erwin Braunschweiger, Synder Keldrex and Lupin Lomstedt with a sizable vanguard made the forward push as the first wave of the assault. Perhaps to be expected, as soon as the army came upon the jungle trees, they were immediately assaulted by large regiments of alchemical bombadiers from high in the trees. Gas and poison spread among the ranks quicker than any of the Field Commanders could react, which forced Rudolf and Erwin to call a momentary retreat, but the attack left Synder and Lupin stuck in the fray of the battle.


Lupin called for the men within his squadrons to press forward in an attempt to gain some ground and cut the losses thus far, which with every passing second, grew in the tens as the poisonous concoctions took effect. Synder commanded archers to fire for the treeline, the arrows like a storm of death as the iron tips ripped through the leaves to hit their mark. This move might have saved the battle for them, buying time for Erwin to have relayed what was happening back to Hans who signalled nearby coastal warships to fire upon the jungle surrounding the Regalian Army. The close proximity of the bombardment did however take its toll on the Regalian force, but it was the Sendrassian ambushers that took the brunt of the damage. Sendrassian attackers were flung from the trees helplessly, allowing soldiers like Mila Braunbecker were able to put them down and end their involvement in a quick, downward motion of their arming sword.


But with each push and advantage that Hans and his men were able to secure, more and more Sendrassians emerged from the jungle to repel them back, making it impossible for the army to make any headway and resulting in a stalemate for Nowotny’s first major skirmish, against a smaller force no less. Scouting attempts failed each time MIla and Erwin were sent out, as the jungle, which was the major reason for the smaller Sendrassian army’s “win” against the Regalian one, was far too dense and dangerous, and each time a scouting attempt was attempted, the beachhead that Hans had created heard naught back. Thus, it was up to the other three approaching Regalian armies to create an opening.

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With Hans’ army making little headway, it was down to Field General Theopold Kreiburg to break the mold and create some sort of opportunity for the Grand Marshal’s army which was hovering off shore in Northern Bexestaan. The battle against the Sendrassians East of Theopold’s position gave the Kreiburg army ample time to begin disembarking from their transport vessels with no traction on the dunes whatsoever. Turning to his tacticians, Kreiburg set a plan in motion to have Gerard Kreiburg’s dismounted Knight followers protect the rear while the brunt of the 30,000 state trooped force pressed into the jungle while the Sendrassian vanguard was busy repelling Nowotny’s host. Both senior tacticians Emmeline Latimer and Benjamin Syldove were able to quickly recognise that something was off about how the Sendrassians were approaching their defense. It was after all usual for the Allar of both Hadar and Sendras to use the jungles to their advantage, but the Sendrassian armies had up until this point been the aggressors in the conflict, and rarely ever held position. Nevertheless, even after informing Theopold of this concern, the orders were set into motion. After all, it would have been a waste not to use the enemies momentary distraction to Regalia’s advantage.



Kreiburg’s senior Field Commanders, Wasa Singhateh and Benjamin Syldove, the latter who was ordered to leave his position as tactician and take up position on the front lines, took point with their respective regiments with Gerard Kreiburg in the rearguard alongside his men. All was well and forward momentum was promising until they reached the outskirts of the jungle. Wasa, atop his horse, was the first to spot movement above in the trees and boomed out a warning to the troops about the tread into the clearing ahead. The marching ceased and the ambush, akin to the same tactic used against Nowotny, commenced. Sendrassian Maz-Allar assaulted the Regalian lines with little hesitation or mercy, all while Benjamin struggled to keep his men into formation. From both sides of the middle column came Jayden Beahan and Hullinera Venicier, and while Jayden helped Benjamin regain control over the quickly escalating chaos within his ranks, Hullinera, atop her horse and with her heavy bow prepped, began firing back at their assailants within the jungle canopy. The men in all four columns followed suit, arrows darkening out the sunlight as the jungle was peppered with hundreds upon hundreds of hours every couple of minutes.


Alexa Haaven, a medic of some renown within the warfront watched on in horror from the backlines as hundreds of Regalian soldiers began to pile up on the mucky ground just outside of the jungle, all scrambling for breath and clutching their throats. She could do nothing from where she was positioned, left only to cater to the few men and women who were successful enough to crawl out of the toxic plumes quick enough to be treated. This is where Edenardenne of Valtyr distinguished themselves, expertly holding back the occasional Sendrassian spearman and assailant while diving into the fray to drag any would be casualties from the death mist to safety. Sendrassian scouts soon sent word that a second army had landed, resulting in the reinforcements that had assisted in pinning Field General Nowotny down being halved and instead moved to put pressure on Theodore and his host. The Kreiburg Field General signalled for Emmeline Latimer to begin lining up artillery, bombarding the incoming regiments where the tops of the trees indicated movement, but this was much less effective. The artillery upon the dunes wasn't stable and was prone to having to be constantly readjusted, allowing enough time for the Sendrassians to push, harass and harry the Regalians back into the sands. Despite their best efforts, no movement could be gained on this front either, and the pressure was on for the much larger Regalian unified host to make some ground, lest this become the most embarrassing defeat of the war thus far.

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Eddair the Elder of Mac Conall rode with his captains and tacticians onto the island of Bexestaan at the back of a series of long columns. Thirty thousand sons and daughters of the Regalian Empire, armed and ready for another mass assault. A hundred and fourty thousand soldier strong operation, masterminded by their Empire’s best. There would be no confusion about the empire’s might today as hundreds of thousands marched onto victory. Eddair knew better than to fall to hubris like many of his younger officers and soldiers might be prone to, and so he kept to his plans at all times without fail. His three sturdy columns would march and march, only stopping briefly every so often to allow for water breaks amidst the jungle heat. Boots filled with sweat and headaches spread like wildfire through the marching formations, indiscriminately hitting every soldier and commander with tiresome humidity and warmth. It had been nothing like they had experienced before in the war. A superstitious man may call this an omen, others of more clear minds might say it is a coincidence. Though somewhere in the middle, someone is probably right.


Alasdair Lachlan had somehow escaped the heat with his scouts ahead of the army, lurking around on the forest floor underneath the towering trees that loomed over every breathing creature in the jungle. He noted an uncomfortable silence there, as if even the winds themselves whispered between each other. No animals had been seen or heard since they left the beaches, only the odd millipede or butterfly scampering away from them. The wildlife has become disturbingly used to wars, but there was something else to this otherworldly peace. A twig cracked some stone’s throw away from the party out of nowhere, the first sound they’d heard not made by themselves since splitting off from the columns. Out from the trees and underbrush charged feral allar with blood on their mind. The party was overwhelmed before they could regroup and a mean cudgel smashed in Alasdair’s jaw sending him to the mud unconscious while the other scouts tried to flee death or capture. With all assumed dead or captured, the rest of the ambushers moved on. Thousands of them. Behind an invisible barrier that hid away sound an enormous army marched through. Giant raptors and other devilish corrupted beasts stomped together with the Sendrassians onto the unknowing Mac Conall columns.


The barrier’s father looked upon the army with cold eyes from deep within the forest and raised its scaled hand. His mind toiled with unfathomable energies, wrangling control over it from nature to rip trees from the earth and down between the moving columns, separating them from each other with tall wooden barricades. The gross tampering sent a heavy punch to Aewyn’s gut as the lives of hundreds of trees were carelessly ripped from their eternal homes within a split second. “Ambush! Ambush!” was already howled out by Commander Pellegrino as his column was swarmed by enemies, chaos nearly deafening out the cries of the innocent, ancient trees. There was little that could be done by Pellegrino against the attackers, seeing his men be torn to shreds by a flood of what could only be interpreted as Sendrassian shock troopers. He called for a hasty retreat to the center column by those who can still flee, desperately climbing over the felled trees but not a moment before he had ensured that his men were with him over.


Viggo and Kaya Sorenvik stood in the center baffled by the madness on both sides, unable to even see the mess coming their way. The frightened pale faces of the fleeing soldiers, however, was a strong indication of what was to come. Fen’an was the last over the wall, standing tall over her fellow soldiers casting spells down upon the coming horde before a charging beast lunged for the barricade. She hopped down into the center column’s ‘pit’ right in time for the beast’s horrible jaw snapped up three soldiers near her landing spot, with herself being only inches away from the great white teeth.


The initial shock wore off of Viggo and he came to his senses, getting back to the Mac Conall plan before it was too late. The soldiers huddled together, with their shields raised above them, covering themselves almost entirely, ready to give the allar a taste of imperial steel and unyielding ailor resolve. The center column held tight against the oncoming onslaught, the combined expertise of the wedded commanders proving to be a formidable foe even against these terrible odds. The best that Sendras has to offer is not enough to break a Sorenvik.


Meanwhile, at the last mentioned column, Cailidh stood just as firm with the help of a maddened Aewyn. The left column was granted just enough time to settle into the planned formation, which did hold well despite the terrors descending upon them. Aewyn had heard the cries of the tormented nature around her for long enough for it to solicit a pinch of fury in the cielothar, bringing her to create a beast of her own against the attackers. A giant 7ft tall amalgamation of jungle underbrush and bloodied soil rose at her whim, sending it forth against the mutilation prone monsters spewing forth from the forest. ‘Old man’ Mac Conall sat atop his horse with his tacticians as his army withered away to overwhelming forces, sent into a fury himself as he would not be sitting on a horse as his men die screaming. He dismounted and pushed himself through the center column, to reach the wall between the center and left. Triss Aduro, despite Viggo’s orders, tried to stop Eddair from doing what he was about to, demanding that at least she’d be allowed with him. Begrudgingly he rejected her, only for her to join him up to the top of the fallen trees regardless. “You’re not standing here alone, we’re all together in this.” She told him, gripping her spear tightly as she took a defensive position at his side. Eddair couldn’t waste time arguing, rather going straight to hollering out orders left and right, almost stumbling over his words as his tactics had to be distributed through the maddening chaos of blood, steel and tears. A retreat had to be ordered, the battle was already lost. Carefully he managed for his remaining men to flee with their lives until the worst came for him. An agile flying serpent danced past whirring arrows and javelins on its way down to the general. Triss’ spear broke in half on impact against the.. Armoured creature. With iron claws it clutched onto Eddair’s shoulders and took him off into the sky, letting him at the very least see the remaining twenty percent of his army escape, injured but alive.

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The mastermind behind the Sendrassian War had confidently brought a hundred and fourty thousand men to the island of Bexenstaan today, to root out yet another Digmaan who has become far too comfortable disregarding the rightful rulers of these lands. The Grand Marshal has a reputation to maintain, and a war to win, after all. A proud son of Cadar will not be defeated easily, and the thrice be damned Sendrassians would be hard pressed to best such an overwhelming force. But we can’t ignore one very important thing. The Sendrassian Allar are observant. They are learning. Adapting. Rhax Trofzzil Muzzal of Bexenstaan appeared all too calm for a warlord being beset upon by four imperial armies. His sleeves were rolled up, and his aces were laid out.


Unbeknownst to Reimar and his men, his grand plan has already failed, and it kept them marching on what they would assume to be a bloody but decisive victory. It was Katrin Latimer and Cillian Mac Conall who were the ones to discover what tragedy was on its way. The smell of death reeked far from the neighbouring battlefields, thousands of heavy footprints were left in the underbrush, of allar origin without a doubt. The ominous signs were too much to ignore, there would be no point in seeking out what would be inevitable. They rode back to Reimar and his tacticians to relay the worrisome news, and he did not waste any time either. There wouldn’t be much in the way of defenses, as the enemy could be there any minute. Laenrell Avalleia oversaw the establishment of an artillery line, dug in and protected with whatever they could muster. A good offense must serve as the good defense today. Lord William Howlester and Lady Sigurna of Avoya inspected the massive iron beasts of Gallovia as part of their cozy warfront vacation! That aside, horns of war were sounding off deep within the woods, coming closer by the minute. Reimar prepared himself for the ensuing battle, leaving command of the army in the hands of Laenrell so he may bring his fearsome banner to the frontline and fight with his men.


Soon they were there. Hundreds of banners carried by the Allar, a thousand clans against the Empire. The Falkenreich banner was caught by the eyes of the Rhax sat upon his mighty mount, not so much as flinching at the sight. Only grinning. He lifted his mace and pointed it across the field to the Regalians, roaring out the order to engage. Tens of thousands marched out to face them, saving their vigour for when they can see the whites of their eyes. Lord William watched on from the back, curious of the battle himself. He waited a minute, drawing on a little grin as he turned to Lady Sigurna. “Do me a favour, would you?” He asked gently, gesturing towards the cannons. Sigurna returned the grin with just a little pinch of mischief in her. “Now?” She replied, watching the veteran continue his assessment. “..Yes, please.” William said then, nodding once. She turned to the firing crews and cleared her throat, stifling away a smile before calling out for them all to hear. “Fire!”, and fire they did. The blasts spewed forth the heavy ammunition over the imperial troops and into the Sendrassians, blowing them to pieces and escalating the battle immediately. The battle had begun. Jared Bancroft and Alaric Keen held the line together, commanding the tenpennies with the right expertise for the job. The initial charge’s damage was almost entirely negated due to their preparedness, but it was only the beginning after all. The Sendrassians were outnumbered, but the morale was hardly lacking because of it. Ibrahim Botanoglu came to assist the frontline with his thousand man regiment, holding steadfast there as Reimar and his bodyguards fought like hell.


The Rhax had seen enough. “Is this all they have to offer me?” He asked his advisors, scoffing as he turned about to leave his right hand man to lead the army in his stead. “Their general is leaving!” Vulmar shouted back on the Regalian side, his attention set on William Arnyn who took the hint right away. The renowned knight took to the skies to fetch the foul foe himself, like a kestrel after a fieldmouse. As he soared up he couldn’t help but be distracted. Plumes of smoke down along the jungle where the reinforcements should be. The trees between them shook and shivered. Reinforcements were on the way, but not theirs. The Sendrassians down below took their chance while the knight was busy and sent out their own trusted hunters. Serpents darted straight for the once-feared Falkenreich banner, plucking away Reimar while he fought for dear life. The sudden disappearance of the grand marshal sent a ripple of demoralization through the army. Soldiers became deserters and commanders struggled to maintain the appropriate composure and discipline. “No! No! Come back! We’re winning! We’re winning!” Shouted Theresia, only to see the giant beasts emerging from the tree-line, drenched in the blood of their reinforcements. Hope dwindled. A retreat was reluctantly called by Laenrell to save as many men as possible. The assured victory would instead be left behind for the Rhax’s men to claim.


The Mac Conall army’s commanders reached safety after a nightmarish retreat, having barely even realized that their general was gone. Triss, cursed with grief and shame, had stayed oddly quiet about the happening. Not even her wildest imagination could dare conjure up images of what would be his fate. And the truth was best kept from the already demoralized army. Eddair Mac Conall, the fifty-six year old general was dropped at the feet of Digmaan Tahnzazzizz. A scarred behemoth of a creature. Once a commander in the Qar-Digmaan’s great and illustrious armies he had been captured and corrupted with vile magicks, with little left of his once honorable self. He loomed over Eddair and croaked out questions to his loyal serpents, “The other. Is he here?” “On the way.” A serpent hissed in reply, their speech hidden away from Eddair’s understanding with Zasta tongues. Tahnzazzizz emitted a sound similar to what one would interpret as a snicker. Smug as all hell. His tongue turned to common, hoisting Eddair up by the throat. “Your purpose is fulfilled, General. Give your men my regard.” He said with an unnerving calm, then digging his claws into Eddair’s chest, clutching around his beating heart and tearing it out with all the grotesque details best kept censored from imperial newspapers. The bloodied digmaan cast Eddair’s lifeless body off the battlements of his citadel, leaving him to drift along a passing river. His heart would be taken away to a little box, together with a strongly worded letter for the Marshal Cabinet. News spread like wildfire back in the capital that one of the Field General’s of the Cabinet had been killed in combat and what's more, the Grand Marshal himself had been taken hostage. The Cabinet was to meet immediately under the Imperial Marshal to discuss options on how to proceed, with a deadline of four days from the Sendrassian Digmaan who promised that Reimar would meet the same fate as dear Eddair if demands were not soon met.