Author Topic: The Cruel Life of Arnick Renodin. Mostly of his own making.  (Read 3933 times)

Renodin

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Hey everyone,

Yeah I know, new char! New character! That means I got to save the Rp's and even though I don't know how far this new guy will make it, it will still be good to not let Rp be lost to the pits of obscurity. So here you may read of the life of a mean, sadistic, bully. His name is Arnick Renodin and I envision him as a physically impressed, blessed even, man who utilized his body as a tool to oppress, get what he wants and generally be a right bastard.

I'll try to do it with flair and avoid outright nastiness but still, have nastiness. If you know what I mean.

Enjoy!

-Tim

Renodin

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To start it all off. Arnick was called to do battle in a region just south of where he was.  Him being him, he arrived late. The fight was lost but he didn't care much. Also... a new Ruler was elected. It happened in the Realm of Perdan where he currently is a Knight. East Island.



The Long march to Moyale

Night was setting in but not before the day stretched on a little longer. Torches would do the rest as the company of men marched on. At the head of the group stood a tall man decked in musculature. His bald head big and robust as it sat on his shoulders. High cheekbones a bearlike jaw prominent in his face. Dressed in a suit of interlocking plates and covered in mail mesh and banded leather underneath. Arnick rolled his shoulders as the strain of carrying his great-sword was once again locking up one of his shoulder muscles. ''Fking.. sword...''

The road led them up and down the mountain sides. Hills were a relief and where the wind was gusting it left the air way too stuffy. Neither was ideal but Arnick was accustomed to it by now. His eyes spied on his men and relish shone in his eyes as he saw their suffering. He had always enjoyed his physcial superiority over lesser men. To see them cringe as his height and to scare them with fearless eyes. His skin was tanned a deep bronze and still pink or dark with scars. Set above an angular nose sat 2 dark brown eyes crested with arching brows thick as a child's finger.

Where he loathed to hire men of small physical stature he was careful not to employ too many that could rival his own strength. Some could perhaps but they were well in line with his kind of leadership and thinking and none of them rivaled him viciousness or brutality.

"Sir..?'' One of the weary soldiers began. ''We passed 2 good campsites already sir. Shouldn't we be settling down for the night? Bandits roam these roads I've heard.'' Arnick turned his large head and strode towards the smaller man like a tropical panther upon a rabbit. The glint of stars reflected off his eyes as he spoke ''Feeling tired soldier? Are you weak? Do you feel some fatigue perhaps?'' His voice taking on a mocking tone that dared the man, not the soldier to respond. ''Maybe I should just leave you here, so how long you live with your so called, bandits on the road.'' A mean, thin smile formed and spat non-verbal venom as Arnick regarded the tired man.

The soldier made a conscious effort to both keep his posture and not to speak up against his commander. ''As you say sir, as you say.'' The thin smile vanished and Arnick's face took on the signs of storm. ''As I damn say yes!'' As the troop of soldiers marched along they tried to ignore the sounds of the pleading soldier. Fury once more took control of the towering noble as he trashed the soldier blue and then red, crimson stained the road until it turned brown when it dried.

The company didn't number less that coming morning but it was exhausted and endured more bruises as night gave way to day. Arnick learned of the Coronation of the new Queen, some Fiona woman. He clearly wasn't impressed as he learned of the news at a roadside Inn. In fact he was so indifferent that he ordered the man who told him the new strung up. The man, a peasant, didn't show enough deference to Arnick it seemed. ''Think she's the only one with Majesty in these lands hmmm?'' Arnick's last question to the man as he was strung up from the tree that stood next to the inn.

The rest of the following, restless day was again spend on the road, the long road to Moyale.

Renodin

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Sorry for butchering the words and grammar there. Not one of my finest moments hehe  ;D

Renodin

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Right, a proper Rp. Also its a battle Rp for those of you that like those. Fleshing out the character a bit and giving some minor insights into his person. Enjoy!


Mowed down

It was dawn and the sun had already beat most men at rising that particular morning. The fields that were the destination already showed signs of battle. It was the sight of yesterday's fight. A Bloody mess. Arnick looked about from a low rise upon which the Perdanian forces had retreated to. Yesterday the men and women of Serion had won the fight but not completely enough to ransack the camp. Arnick spat on the ground as he looked out towards the already forming Serion lines. ''Fking bastards.''  He sorted and it was an ugly noise.

Fresh troops had arrived at night and among those, men under Arnick himself. They were tired, had sore feet and wished they had hours to rest but they didn't. Striding like a giant through the camp Arnick kicked his men to wakefulness and action. ''Get up! You worthless sons of a whore!'' His armored boots found ribs and faces.

The Perdan battleline formed but it looked poor, even with reinforcements. Hardly two thirds of the Serion force they faced. Some high up of Perdan, some Duke Albert of House Gottfried gave a short speech. Arnick's dark eyes beheld him and despised his lofty words and then he busied himself devouring a juicy apple which he cut with a steel forged Rondel, a dagger.

As if by the hand of some goddess the winds picked up and the banners of Serion flew high in the air. They had deployed in a strange layered formation, waves almost like a vengeful ocean lashing at the land that was Perdan. Arnick didn't feel like dying so as the Perdan lines formed he physically held his men back. Not giving them a reason other than fierce glares if men protested. This ensured that he and his men stood in the second battle line, after the first.

Battle joined that day as arrows sailed through the air and reaped the enemy lines on both sides. Arnick wore his suit of partial plates and wore heavy padded cloth underneath. His belt supported splintmail additions to protect his groin and his sabatons were crude but still made of true steel. He put on a great bascinet and closed the face-plate with a rough push. ''Stay with me your miserable bastards!'' He roared through the slits to his men and they in turn knew the punishment as their master unsheathed his massive steel greatsword. It was the finest piece of Arnicks kit and it gleamed in the virgin morning light. It had a black coiled leather grip finished with a pommel of solid onyx, balanced with lead.

The battle progressed and many died to missile fire, mainly on the Perdan side. Partly because there was a great deal of peasant militia's on their side. Arnick reveled in their demise as they were cut down in an amazing double charge of Serion cavalry! Blazing silvered swords flashed like the hands of gods down upon the lowly peasants and they died in droves.

Close behind the cavalry came the Serion wave of Infantrymen steadily and determined although harried by arrows. Arnick's muscles stood taut as he bellowed his war cries and charged the horsemen who were engaged in slaughter. His men were sluggish to follow but forced their bodies to press on. Failure would mean mutilation.

Air hummed as the gleaming length of sharpened steel cut into rider and beast. Blood fountained and only sparked greater acts of brutality from Arnick. His sword hammered men in full armor off their horses, cut at their lances and skewered them like pigs. The tempered steel tip of the greatsword used as a short spear when Arnick took the sword in two hands, one on the handle and the other somewhere mid blade. A brave rider parried the first blow but couldn't turn the second stab as Arnick lifted the man from his horse with a mighty thrust fueled by blind rage.

He never noticed that all his men were being decimated. The cavalrymen fought tooth and nail and where they found it hard to face the towering noble they made short work of his exhausted footmen. Limbs flew, death-screams echoes across the field and blood rained until the earth could absorb no more.

A great man, one of the cavalrymen who brandished a proper warhammer struck a fortunate blow that rang off Arnick's helm. Stumbling back Arnick nearly lost his footing as he stepped on a dying man trying to hold his liver in his belly with his own hands. The weight of Arnick's armored body made it pop out like a peek-a-boo and the man howled. The world swirled to Arnick and he blinked, made several reaction swings men were all to happy to dodge and snarled like a beast.

The fight was lost, perdan was pushed off the field a second time. Arnick was tended to by the camp medicus but not before he had drank a flask of strong spirits and reportedly killed a man for asking how he was. Throttled to death!

Renodin

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Hey there, got another battle Rp for you. Nice bit of slaughter I'd say. Nothing too gory though. Enjoy!


The Battle in Brive

The elves had crossed the river, they had spilled from Troyes to Bescanon and now they roved the Human lands of Brive! Their slender bodies and ''elegant'' clothes and armor now rife in the fields. They had put the sword and arrow to the people and who knows where they would head next! Right next to the capital of Perdan! How dare they!

These were the thoughts of Arnick as he marched with the army out from Partora and into Brive. He had recruited new men. Big and strong and each decked out in a coat of plates that may look crude compared to the elf garb but worked just as well! He wanted to make an impact and not for show either, so all of his new men had to be skilled with the two handed sword or axe but preferably the sword. Many of them wore skullcaps and the richer ones open faced basinets. Draped in long cloaks for travel dyed a deep red and black like the colors of his army. They would be shed before the battle started, towering men with long-lengths of death spelling steel would charge at the elf lines and cut them down to size.

As the Human host prepared to cross the field to where the Elves were encamped Arnick saw they once again brought their infernal cavalry. Those wretched pearl skins wielded their white swords like feathers so light yet they cut through armor with ease! Damn those elf smiths and their fine metals and magic. An absent hand wandered over his plate gauntlets as if to reassure himself that Human steel would be their equal.

The new General of Perdan was a young man, just as young as Arnick but much kinder despite his surname, Hellfire. Arnick liked that name, it suited the purpose of war. As before in Moyale did the Elf horde array itself in that strange formation. Layered and spread out. Some strange shield wearing blokes in the font and long haired maidens with bows behind and even intermingled. Fools!

There were also other elves.. strange elves with huge bows of white and golden wood or metal? Also some with greatspears that looked like there were little vortexes around their tips. Arnick sulked for a moment as he regarded the enemy host but not for too long. The horns of Perdan blared and the Hellfire General roared his command. "Charge!''

A thousand feet stamped the earth and the rising din of armor clattering and jostling  greeted the waiting elves only cut by the howls of bloodthirsty men. Arnick however was not among them. Damn those sods to death he thought. No point charging head on into arrows and spears. He grinned under his faceplate as he advanced once more, like in Moyale, in the second wave.

Arrows cut through the human lines and dozens were skewered, Human armor proved the lesser against elven arrows. The greatbows caught not one but two men at times and both died on the spot. The charge did not falter however and the rush of men crashed into the line of elves. Spears and swords and wondrous acts of martial arts slew men and brought them down into death.

Men are foolish creatures. They ripped into the elves with reckless abandon and tore at all there was to tear and struck at anything in sight that wasn't human. The wet crunch of blood and sweat continued for a time and then Arnick found himself part of it. The last bit he and his men had charged with greatswords bared. Their bodies devoid of arrows and now fresh they rammed their armored bodied into the fray.

A young looking elf woman faced Arnick and she slashed at him with what looked like a puny but exquisite dagger. Mean laughter boomed from his helm as he cut her down in twine. Blood coating the nearest elf and he soon found the same fate. ''Kill them all! Leave none of the Long ears Standing!'' Another great sweep of his greatsword saw steel shatter the wood of a greatbow and sever an arm. ''Fell them like their puny trees!'' The elf archers melted away before the Human frenzy.

Elven swordsmen aided by spearmen retaliated and dealt a deft blow but they also were cut down before the mass of manflesh. Arnick bashed the jaw of an white haired monk elf, or so he looked. The guard of the greatsword knocking the man off his feet and left his face a ruin. In the same motion Arnick slowly pivoted and rammed the tip of his greatsword straight through the breast of another elf warrior. The man was faced away from Arnick and fell face down as he received a kick to his back. ''Thanks for holding on that, Elf!''

Despite the naked fury of the humans did the elf host not waver, it stood their ground and in layers did they deal with the human menace. In the end it proved too little and they were defeated but not before they exacted a brutal sacrifice from the humans.

As the day grew older though the fields of Brive were littered with the corpses of hundreds of elves and sown with hundreds more cheerful men. The pickings would be rich today!

Renodin

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Guess what, Arnick got scolded by his Liege for giving cheek to the Realm's general and Ruler mhehe. Enjoy!


A Prickly Letter

Arnick sat at a heavy oaken table arrayed at the edge of the Royal Training field in Partora. Here he had recently hired more Zweihanders, fine men of great physical strength and hard mentality. He liked that, cutting elf girls in two and then kill their lovers. Munching on bread and sausages he watched the recruits, men at arms and other well off warriors train and battle.

Taking a swig of the watered down wine he had poured, unceremoniously in a tankard he guffawed as a poor sod got his nose bashed in by a practice staff. Red wine streaming down his cheeks and chin as he ill attempted to contain his laughter. His bright eyes torn from the bloody spectacle towards a runner, a thin man who clearly feared the huge noble who was still dressed in training gear stained with sweat and a wee bit of blood of his opponents. His shaven head regarded the puny man and all but ripped from him the parchment the messenger was ordered to send him.

Reading it he ground his teeth, veins popped out on the side of his head and his tongue and lips worked soundless words. Blood rose to his face and the messenger unconsciously backed away from the table. ''Fking Bastard! I'll rip his throat out with my Teeth!'' Arnick bellowed as he slammed his fist clenching the parchment to the table. Making it leap slightly into the air as a response and garnering the attention of the men gathered 'round. A mean glance of Arnick silenced them ''Get back to your fighting, pig lovers!'' Arnick started to rise from his seat, descend again, fists clenching the table and nails digging into the wood.

Regaining a semblance of calm Arnick breathed out through his mouth and glared at the messenger ''Quill!'' the small man all but threw the feather and ink vial. The angry eye of Anrick finding him again.

Pulling out a long dagger Arnick scraped the letters from the parchment and started to write new ones. 

Quote
Highborn of Perdan,

I appologise for my heated words to the General Hellfire. He is a great man.

I also apologise to the Queen Fiona whom I adore and think highly of. Her command will be my pleasure to carry out.

I will now make my way to Brive and slaughter the enemies of the Crown and if my men die I will ask for more gold to replace them.

Glory Sacrosanct,

Arnick Renodin
Knight of Eldoret

Renodin

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Bonjorno, not sure if that was even spelled correctly. Probably not but then again, only an Italian would know.. shhh! So Arnick took out his anger is a very mature fashion. Hope you enjoy it hehe.


Arnick's Promise

Somewhere in Brive standing on a slight rise across from the small camp of the Elves of Serion stood a tall and intimidating human. Clad in heavy plates and interlocking sheets of Steel and Brass and decked in ring mesh and capped with a dark steel, Great Bascinet with a wicked faceplate. Arnick rolled his shoulders, no small feat in full armour, and shifted the weight of his sable handled greatsword.

Cupping his plate mittens to his mouth or as close as that was possible with additional metal skin did he shout, yelled really and to some ears even roared like a Red Maned Lion. ''Elfs! Hear me!'' He planted one worn but cruel looking Sabbaton forwards and took on a lunging position forever frozen in his pose. It did little to make him any less towering.

''My name is Arnick Renodin and I will be coming for you!'' Spittle flew from his mouth as the faceplate was still raised and his right hand bonked on the steel of his chest armour. ''When I get to you I will rip you limb from limb! Not even mother Nature will be able recognized the ruin that will be your body when I am done with you!'' Arnick showed his teeth in a fierce, big smile that only madmen or conquerors wore. ''I'll wear your ears on a chain around my neck and your noses I will feed to mangy dogs and rats! Not a soul in all of the Realms will forget the horrors I will visit upon you!''

Arnick fell to laughter, it started as a chuckle but soon degenerated into an uncontrollable, mean laughter. ''Remember..'' Panting ''Remember when you die, and you will! That your sweet little lovers will know me and be brutalized! I will never be gentle upon them and drag them back to Perdan and put them in a cage! A pretty bird to Enjoy whenever I desire her!'' Bwahaha!

''I'll set fire to your forests and leave none alive in your temples! You hear me elf!?! Do you! I'll piss on your altars and !@#$ on your gods!'' A cold breeze began to blow and for some reason it unsettled Arnick. He snarled at the ominous sky but didn't try his luck. Glancing back at the elf banners one last time he retreated off the hill and back to the main Perdan battle host.

Renodin

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Mornin'! Today I'll post an Rp that I wrote after 2 battles. One big one and the other a clean up. Both not in the favor of Arnick. The first was a large battle, some 30k CS vs 22k CS. This isn't a battle Rp but an after battle Rp rather. Enjoy!




The Wounds of War

Yesterday, it was the Royal Guardians of that moose horned elf King. Today it were the horse-lovers. The only reason they love horses so much is because their women resemble them so much! ''Ahhh! Damned wound!'' Arnick pressed his hand against the crimson stained bandages. A healer fussed over him as he sat perched upon a tree stump. 2 carts stood nearby and pitiful groans emanated from them.  ''Do something useful you rat of a man!'' Arnick's fist hammered the smaller man to the ground with one blow to the face.

The healer collected himself and gingerly touched his face, he gasped. ''Good for nothin' Quack..'' Arnick rose and bared his teeth as jolts of pain shot up from mid torso. The blades of the Elf King's Elite had found him. They had cut up and into his partial plate mail when he was downed and on the ground. Fking elfs were fast and agile. Even in armour! Standing on his feet he ripped a wineskin from one of the servants attending him and left the boy startled. Half of the contents splashed down his chin and when it was drained Arnick thew it aside in frustration.

With his armour much removed and only the leg sections still donned onto his body he still looked daunting. The dried blood caking where it had entry points in between the plates of steel and iron. He was covered in bruises and more than a few stitched up wounds. His muscles worked but they all ached and it did little to improve his mood. All of his men were dead or at death's door. His nose was a mess, he had caught the haft of some weird spear, axe hybrid contraption on it. An Elf weapon! He snarled at the sky and ran a filthy hand through filthy hair.

''We're going! Push those carts!'' He indicated the carts with outstretched hand and his eyes detected the blooming swarm of flies that feasted there. His face worked through several expressions as his mind worked. ''Burn the.. Nahh, bring 'em along. See how many live.'' Arnick collected his black handled greatsword and cursed loudly as his body and wounds protested. ''Any man that falls behind is left behind!''

With those words Arnick retreated from the second battle in two days and he discovered new ways to hate elves. Those pointy eared abominations.

Renodin

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Hey there! Arnick got himself in trouble, naturally! haha. He got imprisoned by the Elfs of Sirion when the Perdan General ordered an attack and then, very late, rescinded the order as he meant something else. Arnick charged head on anyway and faced the combined might of the north with only 3 other nobles on his side. It wasn't pretty. I will share 2 Rp's here. One from the Judge of Sirion and the reply from Arnick.

All credits for the first RP go to the Player of Celine von Genf.



The Judge of Sirion

One guard shouts "The Judge of Sirion", and all others stand when I enter the room.

I stroll calmly to your cell. I made sure to tie my hair in a high bun, so that you would see my ears. My normal-sized, perfectly human ears, on my human face with brown eyes and wrinkles.

"Turn around, show me that wound".

"It won't kill you, why do you worry? Can't take pain like a man? I've had worst in my youth in Caiyun.

If you want, the elvish ladies have a soft painkiller made from honey. They use it to calm their rare pains. Should I fetch some?"





The Judge of Sirion walked up to the cell that was his residence. Arnick sat, resigned, on the cold, cobble floor. The masonry excellent and the surface quite smooth. As the older woman stopped and turned to face the cell Arnick saw her round, human ears. His eyes widened in surprise and shock. In 2 heartbeats he was off the ground and onto his feet. Before he could utter a word however she spoke to him.

"Turn around, show me that wound".

He started to look over his shoulder what wound?! he thought.

"It won't kill you, why do you worry? Can't take pain like a man? I've had worst in my youth in Caiyun.''

A low growl rumbled deep in Arnick's thoat. His eyes simmering with anger.

''If you want, the elvish ladies have a soft painkiller made from honey. They use it to calm their rare pains. Should I fetch some?"

Arnick was taken aback by her calm demeanor and the way she seemed undaunted the confront the towering man that was himself. ''I care nothing for Elf herbs! All I need is good food to heal any wound!'' Jutting a thumb over his shoulder as to indicate. ''Your fancy Elf weapons cannot lay a permanent mark upon my flesh and they are too puny to cause lasting damage!'' A grin started to grow upon his features but it was fragile.

''Why do you visit me, Elf lover? Miss all the things true about Humans, hmm?'' He leaned his big, muscular body against the bars that comprised his cell door and gazed down upon the aging woman. ''Do you see how they pity you as you pass from youth into shadow and time never touches them?'' Arnick a mean and sickly sweet smile as he tried to goad her.

''Release me! and I will tell them you still have a Human heart. That it still beats for mankind!.. what do you say?  hmmm? old woman.'' His dark brown eyes scoured her features as best he could and even let them rove over her body that was draped in fancy elf cloth. The gloom of the dungeon didn't make it easy for him.

Renodin

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Hey there! This time I got something refreshing I hope. How Arnick saw the light of the Sun again after this time in a Sirion Cell. Enjoy!


Careful steps

The sun glared down upon the world. Piles of smoldering corpses littered the countryside and the crows were content. Arnick felt his legs cramp up again. ''This blasted elf cart is too damn small!'' He cursed under his breath. Light pilfered in through between the bars that lined the windows of the transport carriage. His face was divided in stripes of shade and rays of sunlight. Sweat ran down the sides of it and his eyes were wild, keen and drank in every morsel of information they gleaned from the outside world.

It had been days now that he'd been imprisoned by Sirion warriors, their Ruler had offered a single word, their judge a few more. He felt terror take hold of his spine as the carriage slowed to a halt. He heard leather creak under the grasp of the driver, a whip? Something heavy thumped down onto the ground and a soft ring of metal approached the door. He was bathed in stark white light as the door opened, it blinded him. Moving his hands in front of his eyes did Arnick try to protect himself but was pulled forwards roughly by expert and strong hands. ''Out Human!''

He bared his teeth and emerged from the prison carriage with a leap. His hands still shackled and his ears perceiving the distinct sound of swords being pulled from their sheaths as he turned to face his adversaries. Two Elves stood in splendid greens and blues and silver. Armour but so beautiful that they rivaled the very sun itself in glory. They had long and slender lengths of that elf metal in hand, it shone a keen, icy blue.

''Kill an unarmed man eh?! Cowards! I'll rip your throats out!'' Arnick struggled with his not inconsiderable strength against his restraints. It was to no avail and the Elves warriors approached him cautiously. The sun and imminent termination of his life made sweat trickle from his bald head like fresh spring brooks from a snowy mountain. He uttered a feral roar and glared at them in hate and frustration.

''Human.. calm yourself'' One of the Elven warriors said in a soothing voice, as if addressing a horse. Even his free hand gestured as if to appear harmless. A strange thing Arnick though as he observed the blueish sword in the other. ''His grace, our master, wishes to set you free.'' Arnick looked dumbfounded and stumbled back 2 steps. His disarmed appearance was spotted instantly and the two Elfs surged forwards, sheathing swords and one of them producing a key. A click and a clack later and the shackles came off. A crow landed on the roof of the carriage and eyed the men curiously.

Arnick rose to his full height and the Elf warriors backed off, their hands resting on the pommels of their swords. A third elf, a boy by the looks of it but he couldn't be sure, all elves seemed to look young. The elf boy brought him his armor and greatsword. There was no malice in the way the elf boy handled the items only his facial expression betrayed his contempt for such crude equipment. One of the Elf warriors indicated with his hand. ''That way is Perdan or what it still is for now.''

Anger flushed through through his veins and Arnick collected himself as well as his gear that he had to carry in both hands. He slung his sword over his shoulder and carried it in its huge sheath on his back. The carriage left him there on the side of the road. Somewhere in Bescanon and as they departed Arnick took in the great devastation that was the region. Burned villages, destroyed carts lingering along the roadside, corpses. Huge, burned out pyres and somewhat close by a huge warcamp. Hundreds of soldiers if not thousands and banners too many to count. Fear whispered to him and cold sweat popped from his skin and his knees felt weak. He bit his lower lip and allowed anger to replace fear, he hated fear.

There was the combined might of the north in full display and if he didn't make himself scarce like a mangy dog he would soon again visit the Elven dungeons. Arnick ran as fast as his legs could carry him.

Renodin

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Aaaaaaand this is how Arnick came to a bloody end! haha. Fitting if I might say so myself. Enjoy!


Death at Dawn

Morning came and the sun inched upward into the sky providing all the land a fresh but terrible dawn. The gates of Patora were open and Arnick and his large cadre of warriors approached it. Huge, two handed swords suspended from their backs and many a shoulder muscle strained if not their entire backs. His arrival it seemed, had not gone unnoticed.

Fierce and fluttering in the dawn winds was a single banner. House Gildre. It stood atop the gate, another 2 flanked either side of the gatehouse itself. Knight Gilth called a challenge as he stood before it. ''Till death! or are you too busy?!'' His words dripped with mockery, it incensed Arnick. He all but ripped the massive length of steel from the donkey cart that housed his greatsword. A black handled and wicked blade that had cleft many a man in twine before, one more! a cresendo in Arnick's head.

His body covered in partial plate that interlocked and was amply augmented with heavy ring-mail and black leather undercoats. His bald head shone in the early light and his eyes were full of malice. ''You die today then little man! I'll spike your head from that banner before the false dawn is over!'' He pointed with his weapon at the gate-top-banner of House Gildre. A startling display of strength considering the angle of the huge sword.

Arnicked marched forwards with very confident strides and brought his mean, big sword ready in a guard. ''Your mother won't even recognize your corpse after the horror's I'll visit upon it!'' Spittle flew as he forced the words through clenched teeth.


From the Player of Gilth Gildre:


Gilth stood atop the gatehouse in Partora, his banner propped up beside him, gazing at the road leading to the city. The challenge had been issued, finally, and now the issue could be put to rest. He spotted a company of warriors marching down the road, huge men, and at their lead was Arnick. Gilth leaned on the fortification and watched as the group got closer.

"Till death! Or are you too busy?" Gilth called down to him when he was close enough to hear.

''You die today then little man! I'll spike your head from that banner before the false dawn is over!'' Arnick shouted at him, brandishing his enormous sword. This caused Gilth's eyebrows to raise. He had seen Arnick wield the devastating blade in battle before, but it never failed to shock him how easily the man hefted the huge slab of iron. Certainly Gilth himself would be unable to lift such a blade, let alone fight with it. He glanced down at his own sword, a long hand and a half. He knew beyond a doubt he was no match for Arnick in terms of strength. He hoped that he could use his agility to overcome in the duel. Suddenly, Gilth experienced a moment of doubt.

''Your mother won't even recognize your corpse after the horror's I'll visit upon it!'' Arnick was still shouting at him. Gilth nodded. This was right. This man had become uncontrollable, not that he was ever very controlled to begin with. Someone had to check him. Gilth gripped his sword handle, and began to walk down the stairs of the gatehouse and made his way to the dueling grounds.

-=-=-

Duel   (53 minutes ago)
Arnick Renodin, Count of Woolton meets his challenger Gilth Gildre, Knight of Castle Ubent for the agreed duel till death.
Gilth has decided to use the 'overrun' strategy while Arnick has chosen the 'neutral' strategy, giving Gilth the advantage.
The duel goes as planned, then badly for Arnick. He suffers several slight wounds, then a final, fatal blow. The healers hurry, but they are too late.

-=-=-

Gilth wiped sweat from his brow as he stood above the motionless form of Arnick. The battle had be heated, and Gilth had had moments of doubt as to whether he would fell his opponent. It had been the most important fight of his life, and he had just barely won.

He had won.

He shook his head to clear it. Arnicks men stood nearby. Gilth held out his hand and his scribe placed a sack of gold coins into his hand. Gilth tossed the coins to Arnicks Captain.

"See that Lord Arnick gets a grand burial," Gilth said, "He was a brave man."

Gilth turned from the fighting grounds and accepted a towel offered by a servant. With one glance back, he made his way back to his camp, much to the relief of his Rangers.