80th of Ymiden, Arc 717
"Sakarum!" He yelled, seated upon the back of a great and majestic beast -- the Jor Thalla, a companion to those who fought in Thetros' name. This same creature had erected a barrier to defend the men standing in the vanguard, fired upon relentlessly by the bowmen strewn about Argos' crumbling battlements. Their walls had been weakened and winnowed by the Horde, and were readily able to be devastated upon the arrival of the rolling wallbreakers they'd amassed.
Eight thousand men stood as land infantry, composing several lines and wrapping around the edges of the city. To their sides sat four thousand cavalry, mounted upon a variety of beasts, though mainly comprised of Scython and Drexion. Behind them was a line of archers, wielding Nirnbone Longbows, numbering two thousand.
But this... was the invading army, not the conquering one. If one looked upon the walls of Argos, they would find that the battlements were not manned by a contingent force, but one near to its death -- an Albion in flight roared as it followed the winds above the city, devastating the archers atop the wall with a nigh-endless volley of zirconium grade shards. Five hundred men became fifty, and fifty became five. The remainder of the army retreated within the walls, tasked with defending the citizenry with their last breath, and slaughtering the Lotharen Horde as they burst through the walls.
But as the man upon the Sacred Lion called, the Sakarum had come. The earth trembled as the beast burrowed beneath the rocky terrain surrounding the city, before emerging from the ground and roaring with an exhale, the sound resounding for kilometers around as the men rallied and yelled at the arrival of the colossus.
Alongside it sat two men, and one woman, each with a Sacred Lion of their own. Riordan Aelothar, High King of the Lotharen Horde, Champion of Thetros, adorned with a crown of Beryllium Emerald and a shimmering Sorelian Steel plate. Beside him sat Aedan Mac Thordan, King of Mac Teagan and the man who would bring the Horde and their territories to a day of renaissance if he could. Next to him, Kala Alfweyr, daughter and only child of Fenn Jormag, who represented her Clan in the coming conquest.
The three of them turned in synergy, facing the army as the Sakarum bellowed and forced the few men remaining atop the enemy walls to flee. Riordan, first to his lonesome, spoke.
"I have no exciting speech for you, my brothers," he said, shaking his head. "You don't need my permission to seek out blood. You have a passion within all of you, given through the greatness of the Creator. That passion continues to burn in trials of peace and trials of war, through illness and fatigue, and doubt -- and I can say only this: let it traverse, freely. Kill everyone but us. Rape who you want, take their bloody heads off and steal all of the gold you can. This is not an ethical conquest, there's no such thing as that. Don't be ethical -- annihilate them."
His hand rose, and the Sakarum threw itself forward, curling into a ball and rolling across the battlefield, the earth distorting around its movements. It moved with considerable haste, and before long, the creature bashed into the damaged outer walls of the city. A massive array of cracks and degradation appeared on the surface of the wall, and at this moment, the Sakarum uncurled itself and burrowed into the ground. From below the wall, it rose from the underground, the vast structure around the city crumbling upon the vicious ascent of the beast. A gaping rupture formed, allowing passage for the advancing Horde as the beast roared and snarled at the weak contingent of painted soldiers attempting to slice at its legs from below. It burrowed once more, and as it did, Riordan howled.
"Charge!" he yelled, and with his voice came the Horde bearing down.
"Sakarum!" He yelled, seated upon the back of a great and majestic beast -- the Jor Thalla, a companion to those who fought in Thetros' name. This same creature had erected a barrier to defend the men standing in the vanguard, fired upon relentlessly by the bowmen strewn about Argos' crumbling battlements. Their walls had been weakened and winnowed by the Horde, and were readily able to be devastated upon the arrival of the rolling wallbreakers they'd amassed.
Eight thousand men stood as land infantry, composing several lines and wrapping around the edges of the city. To their sides sat four thousand cavalry, mounted upon a variety of beasts, though mainly comprised of Scython and Drexion. Behind them was a line of archers, wielding Nirnbone Longbows, numbering two thousand.
But this... was the invading army, not the conquering one. If one looked upon the walls of Argos, they would find that the battlements were not manned by a contingent force, but one near to its death -- an Albion in flight roared as it followed the winds above the city, devastating the archers atop the wall with a nigh-endless volley of zirconium grade shards. Five hundred men became fifty, and fifty became five. The remainder of the army retreated within the walls, tasked with defending the citizenry with their last breath, and slaughtering the Lotharen Horde as they burst through the walls.
But as the man upon the Sacred Lion called, the Sakarum had come. The earth trembled as the beast burrowed beneath the rocky terrain surrounding the city, before emerging from the ground and roaring with an exhale, the sound resounding for kilometers around as the men rallied and yelled at the arrival of the colossus.
Alongside it sat two men, and one woman, each with a Sacred Lion of their own. Riordan Aelothar, High King of the Lotharen Horde, Champion of Thetros, adorned with a crown of Beryllium Emerald and a shimmering Sorelian Steel plate. Beside him sat Aedan Mac Thordan, King of Mac Teagan and the man who would bring the Horde and their territories to a day of renaissance if he could. Next to him, Kala Alfweyr, daughter and only child of Fenn Jormag, who represented her Clan in the coming conquest.
The three of them turned in synergy, facing the army as the Sakarum bellowed and forced the few men remaining atop the enemy walls to flee. Riordan, first to his lonesome, spoke.
"I have no exciting speech for you, my brothers," he said, shaking his head. "You don't need my permission to seek out blood. You have a passion within all of you, given through the greatness of the Creator. That passion continues to burn in trials of peace and trials of war, through illness and fatigue, and doubt -- and I can say only this: let it traverse, freely. Kill everyone but us. Rape who you want, take their bloody heads off and steal all of the gold you can. This is not an ethical conquest, there's no such thing as that. Don't be ethical -- annihilate them."
His hand rose, and the Sakarum threw itself forward, curling into a ball and rolling across the battlefield, the earth distorting around its movements. It moved with considerable haste, and before long, the creature bashed into the damaged outer walls of the city. A massive array of cracks and degradation appeared on the surface of the wall, and at this moment, the Sakarum uncurled itself and burrowed into the ground. From below the wall, it rose from the underground, the vast structure around the city crumbling upon the vicious ascent of the beast. A gaping rupture formed, allowing passage for the advancing Horde as the beast roared and snarled at the weak contingent of painted soldiers attempting to slice at its legs from below. It burrowed once more, and as it did, Riordan howled.
"Charge!" he yelled, and with his voice came the Horde bearing down.
