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Spring, 1329
Ephemeral and unchanging, the winds blew from the roof of the World, around the jagged peaks and outcroppings of the grand granite peaks known as the Betakinin Ranges, past pinnacles covered by forests, and finally down to the great flowing river known as the Slavutich that divided Nalbin into Northern and Southern halves. Carried by the breeze from the woodlands, a deciduous leaf briefly danced in the predawn sky before descending and finally landing onto the surface of the water, where it was picked up by the currents and floated down the river, first racing between narrow canyons walls separating the Northern and Betakinin Ranges, then tumbling through a maze of giant boulders hemmed by forest, before finally leveling out and leisurely floating past sweeping expanses of grassland shrouded in fog. The riverbanks of the plains gradually became populated with small towns and fishing villages before a large wall appeared and blocked off the Southern riverbank.
Eventually the leaf ended up in a small eddy by the shore and swirled aimlessly before being abruptly pushed aside by the prow of a wooden raft being forcefully shoved into the water. With the sun barely broken over the Betakinin Mountains, only shadowy figures could be seen by the river with their half-immersed vessel. Armor and weapons glistened in glimpses of sunlight off the backs of these humanoids, one of whom stood up and peered into the gradually dissipating fog ahead. A half mile away, hazy gray walls glared gloomily back from the opposite shore. With a given order, the company of warriors pushed their raft fully into the river, then jumped on and pulled out oars to slowly paddle their way across the river.
The sun continued its relentless ascent up into the sky and warm morning light gradually moved down from the distant peaks towards the Plains, rapidly removing the protective shroud. The rowers were halfway between the two banks of the river when the sun began to burn away the mist, revealing the people on board: short, heavyset individuals with heavy facial bones, bulbous noses, thick jaws protruding out from them, as well as the unmistakable greenish brown skin tones of the frozen North. These were the Trasgu, the Other Men or the Northerners as the humans to the South called them, and they were on the attack. These Tragsu in particular were Imperial soldiers of the Tassurian Empire, and they were clad in steel plate armor with a suji bashi kabuto over their heads and armed with the powerful naginata, a short blade-like sword stuck onto a pole. Positioned in the front of the vessel was infantryman Viller, and seeing that the attack was being revealed he leaned down so that the ship’s bow could provide some more protection against the inevitable response. On either side of Viller’s vessel on the Slavutich were thousands of other similar rafts, each manned by dozens of the Tassurian Empire’s best soldiers, all rapidly bearing down upon the wall on the other shore.
***
“Other Men! The Other Men are attacking!”
Harrison was on the cold Altamont wall warming his hands with a brazier when another watchman suddenly sounded the alarm. Immediately, the border guard felt a sinking feeling work its way through his gut. The border guards had been waiting for this invasion to begin for years; it was like waiting for the end of the world to arrive, and though the storm thundered ominously in the distance for years, all had hoped that the storm would never break.
Now the apocalypse had finally begun.
Other cries soon picked up with the first. “There's a fleet of rafts on the Slavutich River!”
“Sound the alarm! All troops will fire at will!”
Within minutes the peal of the bells echoed across the walls and towers.
Quickly, Harrison grabbed his crossbow and went to his position at the top of the parapet. There he could see a fleet of boats, thick as locusts, all aiming for his side of the shore. The border guard aimed his weapon at the closet boat and began firing.
***
The fortifications on the Southern shore suddenly sprang to life; thousands of arrows flew towards the invaders, cutting down scores of Tassurians caught in the open before the survivors protected themselves by setting up a Testudo formation. Then a few onagers opened up, with a deep fwoomph sending six-ton stones into the river, creating deep splashes that covered everyone with spray and sent the shallow boats bobbing about like toys. Lowering himself as far as possible and leaving only his helmed head above the gunwale, Viller continued rowing through the rain of projectiles, uneasily waiting for the chance to respond. Around him, a few vessels- their entire crew slain by the incessant volleys of arrows-were already drifting aimlessly in the currents. Another raft besides his suddenly exploded into a torrent of splinters, throwing pieces of wood and body parts into the air and sending Viller’s raft drifting out of control. The Tassurian grabbed onto the sides of the shaking vessel as it swung wildly around, tossing a few of his comrades into the water.
‘Fuck!’
Yet after a heart-pounding minute the crew managed to steady the craft and get it under control, and following a brief pause to collect their breath, the crew rowing the raft reoriented themselves to the enemy position and continued forward. Several minutes later- though it felt like an eternity- Viller's craft hit the opposing dirt bank. They had finally made the opposite shore. Viller immediately grabbed his naginata and sprang into action, leaping onto the muddy beach and charging up the bank with thousands of other comrades. Together they uttered the chilling Tassurian cry for the first time on Southern soil:
‘For the Empire!’
***
“There’s too many of them!”
Harrison had been firing his crossbow as fast as he could load them, cutting down scores of Other Men attackers, every shot seemingly to hit their mark-though many landed upon shields or armor. With the enemy in such a massive horde below him, it was difficult to miss. Yet he was burning through his stock of bolts, and still the enemy was coming on.
The Auxian troops fired indiscriminately into the river, killing many Tassurian infantry in the water and the muddy bank; however, many more landed and with textbook execution fixed ranks and set up shield walls, limiting further losses from the Auxian projectiles. The defenders were heavily outnumbered; there were only enough soldiers to man the walls in a single line, not enough to hold the walls if the Northerners breached that position.
Harrison continued firing, but beside him the border guards armed with spears and swords were assembling. A spear was placed beside the crossbowman.
“Hold steady!” Harrison’s battalion commander called out nearby.
The Auxian infantry shuffled uneasily. Few had faced an opponent this numerous and armed and disciplined.
Already the heavy siege ladders that had been lashed to the sides of the raft were swinging up against the thirty-foot tall walls and Northerners were climbing the battlements. Harrison managed to shoot down one or two of the first climbers, and other defenders managed to push a few ladders back- sending them and the attackers atop them toppling backwards upon their own men-but soon there were too many ladders and too many opponents climbing them to push back.
Harrison grabbed the spear.
The first Other Men that climbed the parapets were immediately impaled by spears or struck down by swords, but those that followed quickly gained a foothold on the parapets, finally unleashing their restrained response and systematically cutting down their human opponents with the skill of veteran soldiers. Soon fallen humans carpeted the parapet and the Auxian lines began to buckle.
“Goddamn it! Hold!” Harrison’s commander yelled. “There are no defenses in our rear! If the Northerners breach through they will flood into Auxia!”
***
Under cover from his archers, Viller finally reached a deployed ladder and climbed the curtain. Comrades fell all around him, but with his shield blocking several arrows aimed his way, the Tassuarian soldier with his comrades managed to fight their way up to the parapet. Thrusting his naginata into the stomach of a defending Auxian, Viller cleared up a space to leap onto the wall, landing just in time to dodge a halberd swinging over his head. The Northerner managed to take out that assailant with a swing of his own polearm but many of the others in his regiment were not so lucky, overwhelmed and killed just as they gained a foothold or driven screaming down the wall before they could even clamber over the parapet. Nevertheless, Viller and enough of his comrades survived the defenses to claw out a foothold in the midst of bloody hand-to-hand combat. As more ladders reached the top of the wall and more troops flooded into the position, the Northerners were able to immediately replace those who fell in the front lines, finally overwhelming the defenders.
***
“The Northerners are everywhere!”
“We can't throw them back!”
“Flee!”
Fighting on the wall, Harrison had blindly thrust his spear into the mass of Other Men. He could feel resistance, but he could not tell who or what he had hit at all. Any cry that went up was drowned out by the sea of yelling and screaming. However it was clear that the garrison was crumbling-the guards beside him were falling back, and many were falling dead. Harrison soon found himself being driven off the top of the wall; the soldier was lucky enough to be able to fall back through the stairwell as many of his comrades were forced to jump or were even pushed off the ten foot drop of the parapet. Running down through the narrow corridor, Harrison burst out the other side.
The bailey was in chaos, with most of his fellow guards already fleeing. Some of the Northerners had followed suit and were already pursuing, while others busied themselves clearing out the towers. In the distance, the main gates buckled despite the guards holding it shut as the Other Men violently rammed it with something on the other side.
The battle was lost.
To confirm it, another captain ran by the former crossbowman, weaponless and throwing off his helmet as he fled. “Save yourselves!”
After a moment’s hesitation, Harrison shouldered his spear and followed suit, joining an increasing crowd of humans retreating South.
***
Back at the wall, the Tassurian troops quickly worked through the towers, taking down one position after another. Covered with sweat and blood, Viller moved towards the Great Northern Drawbridge, ruthlessly cutting down any remaining opposition. The gate had badly buckled and was barely hanging on by the hinges, but the now the human defenders were also dead and a few Tassurian troops were trying to open the gates. Shouldering his naginata, Viller joined in, and together the half dozen Other Men threw off the latch. With that the gate suddenly threw open, revealing thousands of steel lined infantry. As Viller and the surviving first wave of attackers stood aside watching, the Tassurian cavalry rode out, pursuing the retreating Auxian troops, while line after line of fresh infantry marched through the gate.
***
‘There they are! Don’t let any of them escape!’
From the distance, Harrison noticed the North Gate opening up and hundreds of Tassurian horsemen charged down, riding down and cutting down dozens of men on the road. He briefly froze as one horseman charged straight towards him, then took off in all haste. As the horse galloped ever closer, the Auxian silently prayed to the heavens, and then just as the enemy rider swung out his naginata, the Auxian jumped to the side- the blade barely missing him by inches- and fell down a creekbank, rolling down into a small stream. Without pausing, the horsemen continued down the road, killing other stragglers not so fortunate. Getting up, a dripping wet Harrison watched them pass. All around, he could see men running; some with their weapons, many without, and back in the distance, the walls of his former post thick with the enemy, while other enemy troops pursued the Auxians South. Then from the walls of the Slavutich Line, Harrison heard an unearthly cry: A scream of a banshee echoed through the forests and fields of the River Valley, chilling the human's spine, as if the spirit had already descended upon the battlefield even before the fighting was over. Yet the cry continued, rising up into a yip and then descending into a series of howls, and then the Auxian realized to his shame that it was a Northerner battle cry of victory. Harrison quickly scooped his weapon out of the water and continued the flight South.
***
By noon, the Battle for the Slavutich River had ended. The victorious Northerners were clearing the debris of battle, rounding up prisoners, burying the dead and treating the wounded, and continuing the pursuit when a large raft ground to a halt on the sandy embankment and four massive guards dressed in heavy plate armor and a red sash stepped off and presented their halberds. Between them stepped a moderately sized Trasgu in the full gold and scarlet-leafed armored uniform of the Commanding General of the Tassurian Empire.
The commander stepped onto the sands splattered with blood and bodies and breathed deeply the smoke-filled air.
‘So, it begins. Our great resurgence.’
Miracle Of Sound– Valhalla Calling
From
TheDinosaurMann! Thanks!
Ephemeral and unchanging, the winds blew from the roof of the World, around the jagged peaks and outcroppings of the grand granite peaks known as the Betakinin Ranges, past pinnacles covered by forests, and finally down to the great flowing river known as the Slavutich that divided Nalbin into Northern and Southern halves. Carried by the breeze from the woodlands, a deciduous leaf briefly danced in the predawn sky before descending and finally landing onto the surface of the water, where it was picked up by the currents and floated down the river, first racing between narrow canyons walls separating the Northern and Betakinin Ranges, then tumbling through a maze of giant boulders hemmed by forest, before finally leveling out and leisurely floating past sweeping expanses of grassland shrouded in fog. The riverbanks of the plains gradually became populated with small towns and fishing villages before a large wall appeared and blocked off the Southern riverbank.
Eventually the leaf ended up in a small eddy by the shore and swirled aimlessly before being abruptly pushed aside by the prow of a wooden raft being forcefully shoved into the water. With the sun barely broken over the Betakinin Mountains, only shadowy figures could be seen by the river with their half-immersed vessel. Armor and weapons glistened in glimpses of sunlight off the backs of these humanoids, one of whom stood up and peered into the gradually dissipating fog ahead. A half mile away, hazy gray walls glared gloomily back from the opposite shore. With a given order, the company of warriors pushed their raft fully into the river, then jumped on and pulled out oars to slowly paddle their way across the river.
The sun continued its relentless ascent up into the sky and warm morning light gradually moved down from the distant peaks towards the Plains, rapidly removing the protective shroud. The rowers were halfway between the two banks of the river when the sun began to burn away the mist, revealing the people on board: short, heavyset individuals with heavy facial bones, bulbous noses, thick jaws protruding out from them, as well as the unmistakable greenish brown skin tones of the frozen North. These were the Trasgu, the Other Men or the Northerners as the humans to the South called them, and they were on the attack. These Tragsu in particular were Imperial soldiers of the Tassurian Empire, and they were clad in steel plate armor with a suji bashi kabuto over their heads and armed with the powerful naginata, a short blade-like sword stuck onto a pole. Positioned in the front of the vessel was infantryman Viller, and seeing that the attack was being revealed he leaned down so that the ship’s bow could provide some more protection against the inevitable response. On either side of Viller’s vessel on the Slavutich were thousands of other similar rafts, each manned by dozens of the Tassurian Empire’s best soldiers, all rapidly bearing down upon the wall on the other shore.
***
“Other Men! The Other Men are attacking!”
Harrison was on the cold Altamont wall warming his hands with a brazier when another watchman suddenly sounded the alarm. Immediately, the border guard felt a sinking feeling work its way through his gut. The border guards had been waiting for this invasion to begin for years; it was like waiting for the end of the world to arrive, and though the storm thundered ominously in the distance for years, all had hoped that the storm would never break.
Now the apocalypse had finally begun.
Other cries soon picked up with the first. “There's a fleet of rafts on the Slavutich River!”
“Sound the alarm! All troops will fire at will!”
Within minutes the peal of the bells echoed across the walls and towers.
Quickly, Harrison grabbed his crossbow and went to his position at the top of the parapet. There he could see a fleet of boats, thick as locusts, all aiming for his side of the shore. The border guard aimed his weapon at the closet boat and began firing.
***
The fortifications on the Southern shore suddenly sprang to life; thousands of arrows flew towards the invaders, cutting down scores of Tassurians caught in the open before the survivors protected themselves by setting up a Testudo formation. Then a few onagers opened up, with a deep fwoomph sending six-ton stones into the river, creating deep splashes that covered everyone with spray and sent the shallow boats bobbing about like toys. Lowering himself as far as possible and leaving only his helmed head above the gunwale, Viller continued rowing through the rain of projectiles, uneasily waiting for the chance to respond. Around him, a few vessels- their entire crew slain by the incessant volleys of arrows-were already drifting aimlessly in the currents. Another raft besides his suddenly exploded into a torrent of splinters, throwing pieces of wood and body parts into the air and sending Viller’s raft drifting out of control. The Tassurian grabbed onto the sides of the shaking vessel as it swung wildly around, tossing a few of his comrades into the water.
‘Fuck!’
Yet after a heart-pounding minute the crew managed to steady the craft and get it under control, and following a brief pause to collect their breath, the crew rowing the raft reoriented themselves to the enemy position and continued forward. Several minutes later- though it felt like an eternity- Viller's craft hit the opposing dirt bank. They had finally made the opposite shore. Viller immediately grabbed his naginata and sprang into action, leaping onto the muddy beach and charging up the bank with thousands of other comrades. Together they uttered the chilling Tassurian cry for the first time on Southern soil:
‘For the Empire!’
***
“There’s too many of them!”
Harrison had been firing his crossbow as fast as he could load them, cutting down scores of Other Men attackers, every shot seemingly to hit their mark-though many landed upon shields or armor. With the enemy in such a massive horde below him, it was difficult to miss. Yet he was burning through his stock of bolts, and still the enemy was coming on.
The Auxian troops fired indiscriminately into the river, killing many Tassurian infantry in the water and the muddy bank; however, many more landed and with textbook execution fixed ranks and set up shield walls, limiting further losses from the Auxian projectiles. The defenders were heavily outnumbered; there were only enough soldiers to man the walls in a single line, not enough to hold the walls if the Northerners breached that position.
Harrison continued firing, but beside him the border guards armed with spears and swords were assembling. A spear was placed beside the crossbowman.
“Hold steady!” Harrison’s battalion commander called out nearby.
The Auxian infantry shuffled uneasily. Few had faced an opponent this numerous and armed and disciplined.
Already the heavy siege ladders that had been lashed to the sides of the raft were swinging up against the thirty-foot tall walls and Northerners were climbing the battlements. Harrison managed to shoot down one or two of the first climbers, and other defenders managed to push a few ladders back- sending them and the attackers atop them toppling backwards upon their own men-but soon there were too many ladders and too many opponents climbing them to push back.
Harrison grabbed the spear.
The first Other Men that climbed the parapets were immediately impaled by spears or struck down by swords, but those that followed quickly gained a foothold on the parapets, finally unleashing their restrained response and systematically cutting down their human opponents with the skill of veteran soldiers. Soon fallen humans carpeted the parapet and the Auxian lines began to buckle.
“Goddamn it! Hold!” Harrison’s commander yelled. “There are no defenses in our rear! If the Northerners breach through they will flood into Auxia!”
***
Under cover from his archers, Viller finally reached a deployed ladder and climbed the curtain. Comrades fell all around him, but with his shield blocking several arrows aimed his way, the Tassuarian soldier with his comrades managed to fight their way up to the parapet. Thrusting his naginata into the stomach of a defending Auxian, Viller cleared up a space to leap onto the wall, landing just in time to dodge a halberd swinging over his head. The Northerner managed to take out that assailant with a swing of his own polearm but many of the others in his regiment were not so lucky, overwhelmed and killed just as they gained a foothold or driven screaming down the wall before they could even clamber over the parapet. Nevertheless, Viller and enough of his comrades survived the defenses to claw out a foothold in the midst of bloody hand-to-hand combat. As more ladders reached the top of the wall and more troops flooded into the position, the Northerners were able to immediately replace those who fell in the front lines, finally overwhelming the defenders.
***
“The Northerners are everywhere!”
“We can't throw them back!”
“Flee!”
Fighting on the wall, Harrison had blindly thrust his spear into the mass of Other Men. He could feel resistance, but he could not tell who or what he had hit at all. Any cry that went up was drowned out by the sea of yelling and screaming. However it was clear that the garrison was crumbling-the guards beside him were falling back, and many were falling dead. Harrison soon found himself being driven off the top of the wall; the soldier was lucky enough to be able to fall back through the stairwell as many of his comrades were forced to jump or were even pushed off the ten foot drop of the parapet. Running down through the narrow corridor, Harrison burst out the other side.
The bailey was in chaos, with most of his fellow guards already fleeing. Some of the Northerners had followed suit and were already pursuing, while others busied themselves clearing out the towers. In the distance, the main gates buckled despite the guards holding it shut as the Other Men violently rammed it with something on the other side.
The battle was lost.
To confirm it, another captain ran by the former crossbowman, weaponless and throwing off his helmet as he fled. “Save yourselves!”
After a moment’s hesitation, Harrison shouldered his spear and followed suit, joining an increasing crowd of humans retreating South.
***
Back at the wall, the Tassurian troops quickly worked through the towers, taking down one position after another. Covered with sweat and blood, Viller moved towards the Great Northern Drawbridge, ruthlessly cutting down any remaining opposition. The gate had badly buckled and was barely hanging on by the hinges, but the now the human defenders were also dead and a few Tassurian troops were trying to open the gates. Shouldering his naginata, Viller joined in, and together the half dozen Other Men threw off the latch. With that the gate suddenly threw open, revealing thousands of steel lined infantry. As Viller and the surviving first wave of attackers stood aside watching, the Tassurian cavalry rode out, pursuing the retreating Auxian troops, while line after line of fresh infantry marched through the gate.
***
‘There they are! Don’t let any of them escape!’
From the distance, Harrison noticed the North Gate opening up and hundreds of Tassurian horsemen charged down, riding down and cutting down dozens of men on the road. He briefly froze as one horseman charged straight towards him, then took off in all haste. As the horse galloped ever closer, the Auxian silently prayed to the heavens, and then just as the enemy rider swung out his naginata, the Auxian jumped to the side- the blade barely missing him by inches- and fell down a creekbank, rolling down into a small stream. Without pausing, the horsemen continued down the road, killing other stragglers not so fortunate. Getting up, a dripping wet Harrison watched them pass. All around, he could see men running; some with their weapons, many without, and back in the distance, the walls of his former post thick with the enemy, while other enemy troops pursued the Auxians South. Then from the walls of the Slavutich Line, Harrison heard an unearthly cry: A scream of a banshee echoed through the forests and fields of the River Valley, chilling the human's spine, as if the spirit had already descended upon the battlefield even before the fighting was over. Yet the cry continued, rising up into a yip and then descending into a series of howls, and then the Auxian realized to his shame that it was a Northerner battle cry of victory. Harrison quickly scooped his weapon out of the water and continued the flight South.
***
By noon, the Battle for the Slavutich River had ended. The victorious Northerners were clearing the debris of battle, rounding up prisoners, burying the dead and treating the wounded, and continuing the pursuit when a large raft ground to a halt on the sandy embankment and four massive guards dressed in heavy plate armor and a red sash stepped off and presented their halberds. Between them stepped a moderately sized Trasgu in the full gold and scarlet-leafed armored uniform of the Commanding General of the Tassurian Empire.
The commander stepped onto the sands splattered with blood and bodies and breathed deeply the smoke-filled air.
‘So, it begins. Our great resurgence.’
Miracle Of Sound– Valhalla Calling
From
Category Artwork (Digital) / Fantasy
Species Orc
Gender Multiple characters
Size 2207 x 1670px
File Size 3.5 MB
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