Setting: During the Battle Of Regalia, as shown in THIS Progress Post.
POV: Conf Helethium
He gathered his group within the building, as silently as he could. They were far from stealthy, but given the situation, and the Deathling's lack of scouting, it should hardly matter. The building looked to be some bakery- based on the ovens and rolling pins. Though no products were within- the scarce supply had long since been pillaged and devoured by hungry citizens. The entire southern wall of the first floor was missing, more or less, with only two supports in the center still barely holding on. Fortunately, Regalian architecture- while absurdly flamable- was very sturdy.
The group- now nearly forty strong, despite him only setting out with around nine men- settled in for a brief rest while their impromptu leader began to climb up the stairs. Many were left outside, sheltered in the alley and the overhang in the back, away from any prying eyes. Conf peaked out the window on the second story, taking in the battle before him. The Deathlings had arranged themselves into two forward lines, battling the Loyalists who were defending the tunnel under the Tavern. There were also nearly a dozen of Userpers held in reserve, ready to fill the gaps where their lines grew weakened.
Conf sent out several men to scout, checking the area to the right and behind the tavern, and further down the main street towards the Clock Tower. After around twenty minutes, they reported back. Scattered fights pocked the city, Deathlings and Loyalists alike dead in troves. However, as far as they could tell, there was no backup for the lot in front of the Willow.
He slowly deployed his men, sending two large groups to the roads to the left and right of the Willow, and moving his archers into the buildings nearby. He then readied his main force- consisting mostly of his original eight plus six or so others, and when the Deathlings seemed worn thin, he blew the silver Crow's Horn- the signal.
Arrows whizzed from the buildings, their points driving into the backs of the Deathling line, several puffs of black dust billowed from the line as the reserves turned. Those stupid enough to turn from the Willow defenders quickly found blades piercing them. The main Ground Team, lead by Conf, clashed into the reserves and second line moments later, slaughtering the Usurpers. Those who tried to flee were cut off by the civilians Conf has moved to the side roads, and quickly surrounded and put to the blade.
The Wing groups pulled in as the battle continued outside, with more and more civilians joining the masses. Several others snuck into the Tavern's back entrance, heading for the cellar, while Conf lead a group of men into the Tavern itself, slaying the Deathlings that had taken position inside in a bloody boute. Finally, as the battle slowed, and the last of the Deathlings were turned to dust, and then to a disturbing mud as their unusual remains were trampled into the puddles from the melted snow. Conf stopped, standing on the steps of the tavern gasping several deep breaths.
"Its going to be a long day..." He thought, then he went about reorganizing his men, his ranks bolstered by flocks of civilians. He ordered them armed and armored with bits of left over kit from the Deathling's dusts, then set out down the street leaving behind a force sizable enough to hold the Tavern should it be attacked. And like that, forty became seventy. Blood flowed down the cobble street as his lot marched on, his scouts rushing ahead to find a new battle for them. Conf was starting to wish he had managed even an hour's sleep last night...
POV: Conf Helethium
[ Part One | Part Two | Part Three ]
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He gathered his group within the building, as silently as he could. They were far from stealthy, but given the situation, and the Deathling's lack of scouting, it should hardly matter. The building looked to be some bakery- based on the ovens and rolling pins. Though no products were within- the scarce supply had long since been pillaged and devoured by hungry citizens. The entire southern wall of the first floor was missing, more or less, with only two supports in the center still barely holding on. Fortunately, Regalian architecture- while absurdly flamable- was very sturdy.
The group- now nearly forty strong, despite him only setting out with around nine men- settled in for a brief rest while their impromptu leader began to climb up the stairs. Many were left outside, sheltered in the alley and the overhang in the back, away from any prying eyes. Conf peaked out the window on the second story, taking in the battle before him. The Deathlings had arranged themselves into two forward lines, battling the Loyalists who were defending the tunnel under the Tavern. There were also nearly a dozen of Userpers held in reserve, ready to fill the gaps where their lines grew weakened.
Conf sent out several men to scout, checking the area to the right and behind the tavern, and further down the main street towards the Clock Tower. After around twenty minutes, they reported back. Scattered fights pocked the city, Deathlings and Loyalists alike dead in troves. However, as far as they could tell, there was no backup for the lot in front of the Willow.
He slowly deployed his men, sending two large groups to the roads to the left and right of the Willow, and moving his archers into the buildings nearby. He then readied his main force- consisting mostly of his original eight plus six or so others, and when the Deathlings seemed worn thin, he blew the silver Crow's Horn- the signal.
Arrows whizzed from the buildings, their points driving into the backs of the Deathling line, several puffs of black dust billowed from the line as the reserves turned. Those stupid enough to turn from the Willow defenders quickly found blades piercing them. The main Ground Team, lead by Conf, clashed into the reserves and second line moments later, slaughtering the Usurpers. Those who tried to flee were cut off by the civilians Conf has moved to the side roads, and quickly surrounded and put to the blade.
The Wing groups pulled in as the battle continued outside, with more and more civilians joining the masses. Several others snuck into the Tavern's back entrance, heading for the cellar, while Conf lead a group of men into the Tavern itself, slaying the Deathlings that had taken position inside in a bloody boute. Finally, as the battle slowed, and the last of the Deathlings were turned to dust, and then to a disturbing mud as their unusual remains were trampled into the puddles from the melted snow. Conf stopped, standing on the steps of the tavern gasping several deep breaths.
"Its going to be a long day..." He thought, then he went about reorganizing his men, his ranks bolstered by flocks of civilians. He ordered them armed and armored with bits of left over kit from the Deathling's dusts, then set out down the street leaving behind a force sizable enough to hold the Tavern should it be attacked. And like that, forty became seventy. Blood flowed down the cobble street as his lot marched on, his scouts rushing ahead to find a new battle for them. Conf was starting to wish he had managed even an hour's sleep last night...
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