15 Years Ago in Nordskag...
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Fimburs' Perspective:
It was a cold winter evening...The snow flurries flaring all around as the sound of crunching snow and cracking branch was heard all around. Nothing more than this scenery, where the sky shown only with the light of the moon and distance stars did this night of nights occur. Here were the woods that which surrounded the Dwarf Burgrave. His name was and still is Fimbur Gochni, an Expert Level Light Mage who in his time of living, had grown old, frail, and complacent with time and relative peace. His sat alone in his chair, the wood paneling creaking within his Great Hall as he readjusted himself several times before grunting and rising in mild unease. A stout bearded dwarf came hobbling over, his glasses gleaming with the starlight as he holds a list of the day's' reports from the surrounding lands.The list read as so:
- Great fires where once villages stood unknown cause.
- The Nomadic War party of Stig Falkur defeated and Stig Falkur, Blood Eagled.
- Smoke traveling high into the sky, perhaps heavy amounts of campfire.
The list went on and on with random bits of information hardly relevant to the Burgrave. He rose and whilst followed by his personal guardsmen wandered out into the town. The Town was a tri leveled town, the vast majority of it being interpersonal layers of tunnels and catacombs within the mountain that which they resided within however the other two layers were composed of the Wall layer, generally used for Barracks and Armory locations as well as training grounds for the Dwarfs army. The second layer was composed of merchants and marketplaces, banks and locations necessary for commerce and trade and as pre-mentioned the underground layer, being generally made up of residential and diplomatic buildings, this place was a vast web of tunnels all surrounding the central treasury that which slowly had begun amassing wealth over time from the mines also attached to the Residential area within the mountain. Mostly copper, silver, and small amounts of gold however the occasional loose iron ore would be unearthed and moved to a forge within the town to be utilized by the craftsmen and armorers to assist with the arming of the dwarfs and creation of the weaponry and siege equipment. There, from the high vantage point, Fimbur noticed the veil of campfire smoke just within the borders of his forest. He gave the order for his generals to ready the army and to send out half to clear the forest and kill any invading baron. He assumed it was a small amount of raiders simply coming to try to take his land or coin or void...even his women! The Dwarf General of his towns guard rallied half the army and positioned the other half to make ready for combat upon the walls. The Residences of the place had all begun to flee into their catacomb of shelters within the mountain, organized chaos in truth, since this was a rather routine occurrence within Nordskag, constantly ready for the next raider, the next zealous land grabber, the next King. The army sent out half of their current Military body, albeit small in size of only two hundred fifty dwarves marching into the woods. They truly did make a loud clatter with their dwarven armoring and weaponry. The great army of the House Gochni marching into their forest to purge the invader… The army charged straight forward at the behest of their Generals and Captains and Commanders of all variation, moving to quickly overtake encamped enemy forces whilst they were not ready. However...once coming upon the enemy encampments, the winded but ready dwarves felt a wave of confusion wash over them, the camps were empty. The fires still lit, and the tents seemingly occupied only moments before. They began to spread out and search and scavenge the camps to use for personal comfort in these cold winter days, the army shouted a cheer of victory. However, it would not be long until those cheers turned to outcries of anguish and pain and...fear. The first instance this occurred, was when dwarves began toppling over, their ankles cut and their achilles tendons cut and drenching the snow in blood as they began to bleed out, this occurred all throughout the encampments, nearly a half mile across and the cries of pain and death rang true through the Dwarves, they were in disarray, their commanders, captains, and General unable to understand what to do or what was happening, until they noticed. The snow that lay behind the fallen and dying dwarves had seemed disrupted, upheaved in some slight locations, but their eyes were far too slow and their minds far to distracted to understand why this had occurred until finally! The Northmen rose. Men clad in Wolf pelts, chainmail, leather and the like shot forth from the snow with a furious battle cry beginning their massacred of this half of the Dwarven army. The Dwarves did all they could to try to best these Northmen, even trying to return to formation and tighten their ranks to keep themselves from being slaughtered individually but it was to no avail. The Northmen had them surrounded individually, Void perhaps even outnumbered them! These men were of none they had seen anywhere within Ellador. They were only read about and heard past from traveler to traveler, telling of the ferocity of these Northmen and women who fought as if the Gods above were their puppeteers. Bashturr and Mershell in a gallant display of brutal strength and poetic ingenuity would have pounded the Great Halls table with a boisterous cry of excitement and pleasure for the display that which they were viewing within this massacre. The Winds grew ferocious and the air turned to a heavy fog of white and snow...a blizzard that which blinded the Burgrave Fimbur from seeing what was happening within the forest, all he could hear was their screams. Within 35 minutes, the Northmen had slaughtered the two hundred and fifty dwarven soldiers who had been sent into the forest, the air only a loud sound of wind blowing throughout the trees and alleyways of the Town of Dirbuldor, the land under the control of Burgrave Fimbur. The moment that the screams stopped he began pacing around with a huff, his anxiety peaking with every passing moment before he could no longer stand it.
"I have had enough!" He said, "I am going down there and I am going to face them myself!"
The closest Dwarf soldier piped up at this, a tad bit of worry in his voice, "But sir, you may die by going down there!"
The Burgrave shot him a menacing glare as he retorted. "I thought I trained good soldiers, but from the display down there and what I see before me...I am greatly misled."
Fimbur then went on down to his armory, he gathered up much warmer robes and quickly changed, he then had went and moved himself down to the Wall. He stood before the great gate that which kept his city secure and gave a tired old exhale. Two Captains bringing over two small troupe of men flanked behind him as the gate began to open. They began marching out at Fimburs pace, which in all reality was quite slow but they got to where they needed to be in due time. The Gate closed behind them now, as if sealing their fate to what is truly a valiant display of leadership and strength amongst his people he was their hero! As the party of Fimbur Gochni marched out into the snow covered expanse between his town and the forest they could see through the thick flurry of snow strange shapes. These shapes were in the shape of man but...these men did not seem human at all. The shadows outlined men with the ears of wolves and some the size of bears, the snowblinded eyesight of Fimbur remarked seeing some of them as actual Bears and Wolves through the snow...perhaps this was only a worn dwarfs' rantings...yet all the same the scene displays the small band of Dwarves standing against the slow oncoming forces of the Northmen invaders…
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Eiriks Perspective:
It was a normal day in the winters of Nordskag, the men, hearty and warm within their assorted pelts, furs, and leathers marched through the wooded area behind their Berhednar leader, Eirik Valdemar, Their recent victories invigorating them with the idea that Bashturrs blessings were upon them. They had a sizeable force, nearly five hundred strong from the various Houses that had sworn to the Valdemars and chose to fight with him in these times of great struggle. The Main House members of Lothingul, Stigsson, Ousef, Sinclair and Borumir were together at this moment. Their marching sounds seemed to be covered by the deep snow that had lain itself within their path. At the forefront of the War party was the Jarl, Eirik "Einhenjar" Valdemar, age 20 at the time, leading his people on these massive raids to avenge the deaths and the near sacking of his village and his family. His heart still mourned for their loss yet his mind raced with a burning hatred for those who do not belong within these lands. He had heard from the traders of his town that there was a settlement within Nordskag. A Dwarven Hold seven layers in size that stood perched upon the side of a Mountain. He saw this is a downright challenge for him to conquer and he rallied his men and the men of his retainers and they set forth to purge the countryside of the invading race of Dwarves. Nordskag and Drixagh are meant for the Northerners, Jorrhildr and Ellador are meant for the Dwarves, attempting to mix the two simply beckons for trouble. Therefore trouble came. Once the War party came to the edge of the forest the blizzard had begun to develop, the snow masking their presence in some forms while also foreshadowing their eventual arrival. Eirik and the Patriarchs of his retainer army and with the assistance of Jannik Sinclair knelt in the snow at the edge of the forest, overlooking the great walls of the Dwarven city of Dirbuldor. Eirik turned to the son and now Patriarch of the House Falkur (At the time the most recent and the least wanted of the Retainer army) Vidarr Stigsson telling him, <N>"Ready your men two hundred paces down that way." He said this whilst pointing towards the East before turning to the other Patriarchs with a warm grin as he states to them, <N>"Light the Fires and raise the false tents."
The Patriarchs set to work, rallying their individual masses of men, the Ellon Mage House of Borumir positioned themselves at the rear of the troop, readying themselves and their casts for battle. The House of Lothingul began to set up the tents and set alight the timber they brought along with them to create the campfires while the House of Ousef and Valdemar soldiers began to bury themselves under the snow, keeping warm with the white pelts they wore to signify their loyalty to the House of Valdemars patriarch, Eirik Valdemar. House Ousef, in their silent resolution buried themselves along the entire expanse necessary lying in wait for the Dwarven foot soldiers to begin their search of the camps on the left flank. The soldiers under House Valdemar did the same, burying themselves closer towards the front and middle of the formation so as to be the first responders to initiate attack against the Dwarven men. The traps were set and alight. The Smoke stacks billowing up into the sky, their black being easy to notice through the oncoming thickness of white that which signified the blizzards fast approach. It didn't take long for them to hear the dwarven army begin their march. The clattering of their heavy plate and weaponry sounding as if thunder was set on repeat by the All Father Above. Eirik, buried beneath the snow sat quietly, his mind scanning over the possibilities and the ideas for victory, the thought of failure never leaving his mind. He sat in wait…
The crescendo of metallic sound approached...
He steadied his pace...
He heard their charge yet near immediate cease...
He cursed himself for not putting a shield over his stomach to keep from feeling the pressure of a few of their boots...
He felt deafened by the sound of Victory Chant yet knew…
He knew…
It's Time!
He leaned forward and took a dagger from his belt and stabbed it into the ankle of the nearest dwarf before ripping it open, within the same move he returned under the snow, the dwarf falling ontop of him making his ruse complete. The dwarf screamed and thrashed about as he felt himself slowly dying, the blood draining from a singular cut so quickly. He praised his Prophet in his final moments, his love of his people's' Idol not ceased within his final moments. His breath catching every so often as he fell into the cold grasp of death. His people began doing the same, dwarves falling all along the battle line and Northmen returning to their snow comfort as he counted out the seconds within the minutes. As the sneak attack went underway the House Ousef utilizing their vows of silence rose up and began cutting down the Dwarves nearest them. Once the count went to thirty seconds for Eirik he as well rose yet unlike the Ousef warriors gave a mighty battle cry signaling to his people as well to rise and attack the enemy forces. Their chant was masked to the town of Dirbuldor by the growing rampancy of the winds that began to upheave the blizzard into its near infancy state. The battle had begun, soon after the House of Ousef rose and began their ravaging of the enemy the dwarves understood what had become of their plans and formations and so on. The sheer brutality of the Northmen was unrivaled at this time and even the tightest of shield walls would not be able to fight against an enemy that rose from the ground! The dwarves fell group by group as the wave of Northmen washed over them, some dwarves did score returning hits on Northmen and they did fall and mask the snow with their corpses, however the tides of battle still had not shifted with these few casualties. By the end of the Forest massacre, the dwarves had suffered two hundred and fifty casualties, the Northmen sixty three. Once the last dwarf had been slain the Jarl Valdemar gathered the men in back together, positioning them in a charging formation in a long line along the forest line, they held a loose formation to keep from being struck by archer fire.and attempted to remain low for the majority of the walk. They were just about to begin their forward march when Eirik noticed the Small party half way through the battlefield. He called over to one of his bannermen and gathered up a banner of House Valdemar and walked forward with the army he had brought along. He strode forward, shoulders held high, a steely gaze awash over his face as he stepped forward. He was nearly fifteen meters away from Fimbur at this moment when he raised his banner high and slammed it down into the snow, its colors flashing and swaying in the growing winds. This caused the Northmen to cheer and hoot and holler, almost matching the biting sound of the gathering blizzard winds that which surrounded them. Fimbur raised his hand and his dwarves stood in a line formation, raising their shields to form a shield wall behind him.
Fimbur said, "I don't know who you are, but I will not let you sack my city without a proper fight!" His hands began to emit a bright light as a sharp bright blade seem to manifest along his arm from elbow to wrist, this form of Cutting Light was on his right arm as he kept his other hand glowing bright with a focused look upon his face.
Eirik Responds with, "Then allow me to introduce myself." He took his axes and raised them high above his head and growled and gnashed his teeth, flashing his tongue and putting on a display of fierce bravado to the Dwarf Burgrave. He began circling the Dwarf as if testing the waters, his men taking up positions on opposite sides from the Dwarfs men.
Here we go!
Eirik and his men charged forward, his mass of people split into the groups under the associated Houses. The House of Borumir charged first, their Ellon forms crashing into the shield walls of the dwarves causing large indents in the dwarf fortifications as they battered the wall with their bodies. The Family of Borumir in their Bear forms ripped and slashed at the dwarves who kept them encircled within these positions as the underlings within the House gnawed and pounced upon the individuals in their Northern Wolf forms. While the Dwarves were occupied with the animal men the House of Ousef charged forward with Lothingul, attacking the disarray of dwarven men as Eirik and Fimbur began to clash. Axe met Light blade and Light Barrier as he berated Fimbur with a flurry of slashes. He was unrelenting in his repetition of axe chops until he sent an unsuspected kick towards Fimburs midsection, due to his age and lack of expecting the strike he fell backward into the snow, his hands burning the snow where he fell. Eirik seeing the opportunity leap up and over Fimbur. He raised one axe high into the sky as he brought it crashing down towards Fimburs shoulder, at this same time Fimbur would go to grasp at Eiriks wrist but he was too late to cease the attack. Eirik cut straight into the dwarfs shoulder nearly separating the arm completely from the body before he was grasped upon his wrist By the burning hands of the light mage. The hands would not grasp long as Fimbur cried out in a roar of pain as blood began to flow freely from his shoulder laceration. Fimbur knew his life was fading at this moment...he had only one option left to undertake...Eiriks burnt wrists and axes rose up once again to finish the final strike down on Fimbur when all of a sudden, FImburs body began to erupt with light, his eyes glowing a bright white and his body growing so hot that the snow began to melt beneath them. Eiriks axes came down quickly towards Fimburs head but in this moment it was far too late for Eirik to cease himself. The axes collided with a Light Barrier so powerful that it sent Eirik and his axes flying back upwards to over nine feet back, he fell down into the snow stunned and near deafened by the loud crashing of the sound. His eyes irritated by the immediate flash of light that came from Fimbur. As he got back up he saw the old dwarf man slowly levitating into the sky, his shoulder wound slowly reconnecting itself as he emitted a ghastly wail of sound as his mouth opened. The dwarves on his side felt invigorated and their wounds began to slowly heal, the dead however did not stir. Eiriks men continued their onslaught upon the enemy, the lights of the Dwarfs angelic form none of their concern for they had the winds of Bashtur upon their side! The Blizzard had kicked up a fervent fury of snow and wind that the dwarves in their unprepared way could hardly see the Northmen standing in front of them. Eirik, following the light of the Dwarf looked to him now. He had levitated to eye level and stared directly back at Eirik. Eirik spoke in a yell of a tone to get it over Fimburs wailing and the sounds of the Blizzard saying, <N>"Lay down your weapons Dwarf! You have failed!"
Fimburs wails ceased at that moment as his shoulder had fully reformed at this moment after this extended period of healing, it fell limply at his side as he tried to send a hand towards Eiriks face, the light that emitted from it merely a blurry form of what they could have been from the earlier flash of light combined with the snow from the weather that which encircled around them. Eirik stepped back a few steps and waited, as the fighting continued around them in what seemed to be slow motion a thousand thoughts seemed to roll through Eiriks mind, the voices of his family echoing through his Northern Skull.
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Have you learned mercy yet Eirik?
...Mom?
Have you learned compassion yet Eirik?
..Celina?
Have you learned how to win yet..Eirik?
...Dad.
He reopened his eyes. His mind clear and his thoughts centered on the task at hand. He knew there were better options, but was he to far forward with this current stratagem that it would be tactical suicide to simply withdraw or cease the fighting? He did not know of the current course of action, all the while moving and dodging the attempted grapples of Fimbur the Light Mage. The lights of the dwarfs form flickered slightly as it seemed like an incredible amount of strain was being placed on Fimbur by this prolonged usage of the form. His Northmen were soon pressing forward their advance. The dwarfs falling from the axe and claw wounds that came from the invaders, Eirik knew what had to be done. He steadied his breathe and kept looking at Fimbur, his eyes watching his movements yet remaining focused on that fact that he is in the middle of a battlefield. Once Fimbur had finally sent another grapple Eirik would wait for him to move to the middle of his action and finally send the hilt of his axe down towards Fimburs head. Due to the age, exhaustion, general surprise of the attack, and overall strength of the swing he was struck his focus lost and his body magically and physically exhausted he fell down to the ground unconscious with his body melting the snow all around him as he had lain there, face down in the snow. His Dwarves so the fall of their leader and with their moral broken they began their retreat. The vast majority of them were cut down on their race to the city gates yet those who made it in were saved by the archer fire from the walls on the Northmen foolish enough to charge individually up to a fortified city wall. Once the body of Fimbur had cooled off a bit Eirik had him ferried over to the forest line were he had his men cut down two trees and craft large reinforced wooden planks that which they would then promptly tie Fimbur to and began waving him around like a banner as they carried him onward towards the City wall, the entirety of the Army followed behind Eirik at the forefront as he had his men plant the unconscious Fimbur in the snow and dirt beneath and display him to his city. Eirik called out to the dwarven Generals on the wall in as loud a voice as he could, the wind had since died down at this point seeing as they were in a wind broken zone by the wall of this city.
"People of this Hold, I am Jarl Einhenjar Valdemar! You will surrender to my people and myself or your great leader here shall die by the most vicious of executions known to any upon this Continent!"
The Dwarven Generals convened together upon the wall before climbing down and opening the gate in front of them, they alone walked out as the Gate was lined with row after row of dwarven shields men armed with spears and the like. The Generals looked warily between Eirik, Fimbur and his mass of an army behind him. They spoke to him in the Common tongue saying, "We will let Fimbur decide our actions. We will set up a campfire out here for the generals of our army and the generals of your army, both will be guarded by our men and the archers on the wall will disappear. We will wait together for him to wake."
Eirik looked back to his men for a moment and nodded.
And so they waited.
6 hours of near silence except for the banter that which rung out between the Northmen aside from Eirik mocking the dwarves in their loss. Some going as far as using the bodies of the dwarves as benches before getting tired of their lumpy and uncomfortable bodies and dragging them over to a pile of other bodies and staking them near the wall for any who looked over to be able to see. When the old Dwarf finally stirred, he was roughly seized up by his dwarf generals and held at distance from the Northmen, Eirik slowly rose and looked over to him as the groggy Fimbur shakily pushed the generals aside. They stood across from each other as Eirik repeated what he had 6 hours prior, "Surrender yourselves, lay down your weapons or your people and yourself will die." Fimbur kept looking up at him, his mind slowly returning back to its cognitive ability as he replied, "If you let my people live, and swear that no harm shall come to them forever more, I will do as necessary."
Eiriks response was short and straight to the point as if he had been rehearsing ways to do this yet simply relented in the easiest one. "A portion of what you unearth, the remainder of your army whenever I call upon you, access to your lands and ability to sell off a small portion of your land to a friend of my family so as to appease a few blue collar Regalians and you will have your protection from the rest of the people in this continent."
Fimbur looked to Eirik for a long while, occasionally glancing back at the looming walls of his city then to his dwarf generals...tired..worn from the battle and looking as if they were ready to collapse. He sighed and with a final act of sacrifice for his people stated thusly, "I accept, Jarl..?"
Eirik was quick with the response, interjecting himself into his sentence," Valdemar."
"Jarl Valdemar then..I accept, and may our futures prove to be a fortune to our lands...so long as you uphold your end of the deal." *He extended his short wrinkled arm up to Eirik as Eirik sent his down to meet his, it was the handshake that saved thousands of lives within the city of Dirbuldor.
Yet would it also prove their downfall? only time will tell...
OOC Information:
- Most Northerners who live in or have access to information that stems from the Nordskag/Drixagh area would know about this.
- This happened 15 years ago.
- This has the consent of all parties affiliated.
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