User blog:Cymru knight/Battle of Wolves and Thunder

= Battle of Wolves and Thunder = Written by User:Hranu

A night battle was not entirely in the plan for this fight, but Traherne knew that nothing ever truly went according to plan. Everything had to be in place: the cannons and arquebusiers had to have the high ground with the crossbowmen and archers under them to rain hell upon the enemy. The War-Clerics of the Sable Dragon had to take their positions in the woods not half a kilometer away to ready themselves to charge. The rest of his forces arrayed.

He had the high ground; Lord Gawain had simply given it up, and that is what worried the Bennaeth of the Meibion Daranu.

He looked through a spyglass to Gawain’s forces: made up of sellswords, Gwaeddon, and golems to support his troops. All of what had been left of the forces that had been arrayed against the loyalists had come together under Gawain’s banner to bolster his troops. This movement was it: the single most important battle of the war to be fought between two former friends; Two men that had saved each other’s life countless times before.

Syr Angelique, Chief Justiciar of the Order of the Sable Dragon, was at his side. “The Order is ready,” she said, succinct and staccato in her speech. “They simply await for the flare.”

Traherne spoke no words as he nodded. He waited for Gawain to do anything at all. The cannons could reach his position with great ease, and he could bombard them all night if necessary, but Gawain had not moved a muscle.

That was, until, he rode out with two others to the middle of the field with a white flag.

“It is a trick, Bennaeth,” Angelique had said her warning. “To draw you out to kill you so that you may not directs the Children of Thunder.” She gripped her spear tightly, digging the end into the dirt.

“It may be,” he said with some amount of exhaustion in his voice, “but I have some hope that Gawain is still the same man as he was before.” He turned toward a subordinate. “Bring me my horse.”

As two of his bodyguard flanked him, he nodded at Angelique. “If I do not come back, you will have the satisfaction of being right. After that, you may take command. You know what to do, and the Gapwein know how to command the regiments. Until then, Syr Angelique… stay true.” He kicked his horse, his two bodyguards following.

Syr Angelique looked on, shaking her head. “I do not want to be right,” she whispered.

The ride out to the center of the field took less than a minute to cross, but he sat on his horse a mere few yards from Gawain. Traherne was silent, gripping the reins of his horse tightly. “I hope you have come to surrender,” he finally greeted, a smile forming under his bushy mustache. “I would hate to fight you, friend.”

Gawain the Red Fox, Lord of Gwent and Cadylwydd of the Bleiddiaid y Dyffyrn, was not as happy. He was forever a stern man, forever terse in his speech and taciturn to his subordinates. “I come with a single offer, Lion of Powys,” he said in response. “The skies will soon darken, and the stars and moon shall light the way to my victory. After this, I will march our forces on Thelsamar and take the Arglwydd from his bed and hang him for his betrayal.” He kept tone even, though serious.

“We will retake the Vale once we have defeated you here, Gawain,” Traherne said with a shake of his head. “You have aligned yourself with sinners and evil men. More than half of your Bleiddiaid abandoned you for the loyalists. Can you not see what Iwan and the Gwaeddon are doing? Come with us, friend -- stand down your forces, dismiss your sellswords, let us dismantle those golems, and take the remaining Gwaeddon prisoner. No more of the Blood of the Mountain must be spilled today.”

Gawain shook his head, spitting on the ground. “The Gwaeddon are misunderstood; they give us the power where previously we had none. With them bolstering us, we need not rely on disgusting foreigners that the Arglwydd courts so readily. We shall stand firm like our mountains. You are making a mistake, Lion of Powys.”

Dejected, Traherne lowered his head. “Then the skies shalt not just light up with the moon and stars tonight, Gawain, but with cannon and arquebus fire as well. Has it come to this, old friend? Can you not even say my name, you are so ashamed of me?”

The Cadylwydd responded by turning his rhaidd around -- riding back towards his line. Traherne did the same. His lines of pikemen, footmen, halberds, and greatswords opened up for him -- arrayed and ready to take on the following charges. “Pikemen and halberds to the front!” He shouted a command, the Gapwein responding and moving their forces aptly.

When he returned to the cannon, Angelique had finished a prayer. “I pray he sees that Sirona and Conand stand against him today and has given up?” She jabbed cheaply.

“Nay,” Traherne said as he shook his head. He nodded to the artillery crews, holding his sword out. “Bombard them.”

The cannons, shaped in the style of dragons, roared their flames and shot. Eight specially crafted cannons that were covered in runes to maximize their effectiveness breathed fire and sent their quarrels at the enemy. The shots slammed into their lines, devastating the few ranks. An accurate shot hit a golem, destroying it in a single blow. The Meibion Daranu all let out their shouts in unison, only to be followed by their battle song.

Gawain’s forces did not have many Mynydd. Thus they only began marching forward. The song of the Blood of the Mountain sounded eerily over the field as night fell. A second volley from the cannons sounded as the arquebusiers, crossbowmen, and archers began to fire their arrows and shot. Gawain’s forces shrank by the number and yet still that did not stop them.

Their lines met. Sellswords and golems fell upon the waiting pikes and halberds. The first few ranks on the right broke through, though they were met with greatswords soon after. With the golems so close, the cannons focused their fire on them -- cannon round after cannon round being spent to bring down the devastating rock monsters.

Traherne unsheathed his arming sword and a flare gun. All their forces were committed now. He lifted it into the air and launched a red flare into the air. With that, the War-Clerics of the Sable Dragon, clad in their heavy armor, their horses in armored barding, and wielding lances and the Holy Light crashed into the back of the lines of Gawain’s forces. Gwaeddon and archers fell to the holy attacks of the Order.

Ushering his horse into combat, the Traherne cut his way into the rebels to make his way to Gawain, his bodyguard not far behind. Soon enough, they found themselves looking at each other again. As the battle raged, Gawain called out to him. “I am a better swordsman,” he shouted a warning. “Come to me, and I shall cut you down.”

With warning taken, Traherne charged him.

[The Battle of Wolves and Thunder has been won by the loyalists] [Traherne ap Traherne, the Lion of Powys, has perished in battle] [Gawain the Red Fox, Lord of Gwent and Cadylwydd of the Bleiddiaid, has perished in battle] [Gawain’s forces are shattered] [The Meibion Daranu has lost 40% of their forces to the battle] [The Order of the Sable Dragon has lost 20% of their forces] [The way to the Mynydd Refuge is open]