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PostPosted: November 10th, 2017, 10:25 pm 
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King

Joined: May 30th, 2015, 10:17 am
Posts: 3862
Location: Stirling - Scotland
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The following account is pieced together from accounts of various soldiers and commanders from the Fallen.

Ainmire's personal journal keeper

The people of Tremaine had been forcefully turned to become Fallen, those who were not killed or able to flee initially by Ainmire Supporters and easily manipulated Ostron Mercenaries. As the rightful King Ainmire - so called " Usurper " and " Crippled King " by those who would seek to deny his rightful destiny - had predicted, the lapdogs and cronies of the weak and unjust false ruler of Perth, King Scrios had arrived in drips and drabs. No doubt weakened still in the decades following the eastern unrest, the so-called 'Loyalists' and allies of theirs had attempted to cut off the head of the snake, the rightful inheritor of the Kingdom of Perth and more, King Ainmire. They will find a roaring dragon instead of a mere snake if they attempt anything so foolish.

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Campaign journal of one of the few Ostrons capable of writing:

Sidh Glen burns. It's pathetic snow elven resistance overwhelmed immediately by our glorious Pyrencian blood enhanced soldiers. And they make claim to lands like they have ability to keep them. Weaklings.
The Ilmenite Coast was next to fall, offering slightly more resistance than meager farmhands. A strike that close to the Capital was sure to anger and also hamstring the Loyalists cowering there. Ardraon was sacked, it's people turned and used as fodder for the assault on Glas Claddach Port, allowing more Fallen and fellow Ostron troops to arrive and overwhelm the mountainside settlement of Innean and eventually the prized jewel of Strathceard, the Ducal Seat of Power. Scant few escaped in small boats across the lake, with the Palace being torched as a clear message to the people of Perth and beyond that Ainmire's wishes were not to be trifled with.

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Taken from the scattered belongings of a traitorous Knight in Tremaine Castle:

The campaign goes well, our mighty Pyrencian Blooded warriors continue to slaughter those who would oppose our rule, with the mighty King Ainmire presiding over the Duchy of Carrickshire in the city of Tremaine where his revolution began all those years ago. Morale is high and further plans to weaken the Capital city of Dunn before a final campaign to take fully what rightfully belongs to the one true heir to Perth are underway. These weaklings and their allies are no match for the Divine right to Rule that our leader Ainmire alone possesses.

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An excerpt of the surprise attack upon Tremaine from a scribe close to the Usurper:

A surprise attack upon Ainmire's current seat of power to destabilise the rebellion was not unexpected but certainly a major surprise that such forces that could actually contend for the city were able to be amassed at all. It appears as though they have set up a camp outside the city limits and out of our range. Ainmire is going to enjoy destroying these fools. ~

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A regimental commander from the Loyalist forces:

"Our strike force had linked up with the battle weary Casadians who had fought from the Kaine border to arrive here in time. Banners from Dunn, the Ilmenite Coast and Carrickshire all flew strongly in the wind, defiantly still standing before the Crippled King's very nose. It was a calculated move to anger and provoke a rash response, but Ainmire was more cunning than that. He had not achieved so much by being impetuous so far".

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Account from the Battlemaster of Perth as recorded by the War Council:

A plan was hatched to have a small group of infiltrators open up side gate and allow a larger force to storm the city and catch them unawares. When presented with this plan and asking for volunteers, a collection of brave indiciduals presented themselves: A hulking, barbaric looking man whose thick guttural accent implied Khabranthian origins stepped forwards and spat on the ground. He had simply appeared one day and joined the force heading south to Tremaine, and vowed to spill Fallen blood, muttering constantly to himself of taking skulls for trophies. His name was Sahrag.
A scarred Knight from Strathceard who had escaped the slaughter of the poorly defensible Palace. A halberd at her side, Knight Ekaterina of the Ilmenite Coast stood poised to lead her allies to victory for the Divine right to Rule of Scrios of Perth.
At the same time a downtrodden, but defiant, man introduced himself as Tethras, with a faint suggestion of lilting music in his voice and a softly glowing musical instrument on his back proffered his talents to the group. He got as far as mentioning that his horses required further Barding before he was interrupted by the next volunteer:
A small contingent of men from Reinen had arrive after taking the safer overland route. Of them, one who spoke his name loudly as Tysion the Fighter stood up and proclaimed his desire to join this mission. His equipment looked worn from heavy use and his stance was poised. A well trained soldier to be sure.
Former guardsman of Tremaine and one of few survivors, Breena stepped forth and offered to guide the party using her intimate knowledge of the city. She had nothing left to offer except this and gladly put her life on the line to rid the world of this menace. Clashing bracers with the other volunteers, she nodded and stood with them.
A lone elf with skin the colour of mottled stone took a step forward, his heavily accented voice unable to be placed by any of the elves present in the army. A sinewy mountain moved silently to his side, materialising from the shadows of the war-tent as if from smoke. An eagle swooped in at that moment and perched deftly upon his shoulder, and glanced seemingly in recognition of the elf and his lion. This elf spoke his name as Rengal Bloodshock, and decried Ainmire as a stain upon history before sitting back down and idly stroking his lion's mane.
Erakhon of the Casadians stepped forth at this moment to offer his services in the coming raid. His skills as a professional soldier he claimed would be necessary for a successful mission.

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Lone Scout on a ridge opposite Tremaine's southern wall's account of the battle:

The infiltrator team moved up along a boggy riverbank deep below the steep outer wall of Tremaine, attempting to remain undetected. Their goal was as told in the War Council earlier that day, to open the gates for a much larger force to storm the inner city. With the former guard Breena and Perthian native Ekaterina who knew of Tremaine, their knowledge of the layout should provide the Loyalists with a realistic chance of victory.
From almost the first action there was a slip up, an enemy guard on the high wall seemed to be alerted to the noise of the grappling hook striking stone, but it was only a momentary worry. The Guard turned back and allowed the party to continue. First up the rope after shoving his way forward was the enormous Khabranthian warrior. Quite why he was selected let alone allowed to participate in a stealth mission was up for questioning, but no one was going to step in front of this behemoth and say no. And besides, it wasn't likely that he would jeapordise the entire pla-...
...At that exactly moment Sahrag, who, had disappeared briefely, decided that stealth was not the answer and the sounds of an axe crashing into and through armour and bone rang faintly from a tower. Cringing at the sounds of carnage, the Scout observing noted that the loyal Guard Breena, the warrior Tysion and the Knight Ekaterina had all scaled the rope, although in the darkness, the Knight had fallen off the rope and was stuck. Before he glanced away he noted a further rope and hook being swung by her onto the walls. The remainder of the party had all scaled the walls by now, noting that the bow that Breena had carried had been snagged on a rock but was recovered by the still-stuck Knight.
Sounds of fighting had reached the scout's keen ears but the entire city was not yet roused fortunately.
At one point Tysion and Erakhon were the only people he could see, and the Casadian, moving like quicksilver in the night, seemingly only struck two foes, yet three toppled dead in front of him.
A a flash of armour was illuminated by torch light dragging the eyes of the scout away from the wall and upwards to the small tower, where Ekaterina had managed to successfully land a grapple hook, however seemingly botched the landing and crashed through the tower window. A loud roar and a faint clank or two later, the Barbarian of Khabranth and the Knight had rushed in the direction of the gate, blood slick on their weapons, with the Barbarian, (At this point the Scout swore off alcohol for the rest of his days) carrying the paladin on his back with her halberd pointed foward like a bloody knight at a tourney ground. This ludicrous display was cut short as the barbarian dodged a number of arrows fired at his body, and the Knight fell off the wall with a sound like a larder full of scale-armoured pots clanging to the floor.

Meanwhile, the stone-flecked pallour elf, minus his animal companions, made it to the gate, opening it and launching a signal flare with all his might into the sky.
The signal.
Perth loyalists and allied forces charged forwards along the southern causeway, forcing the few guards out of the way and causing a huge uproar in the garrison. At this point the scout saw that the party had split in a manner, with the Casadian, Tysion and the uniquely faintly glowing bard- Tethras entering a tower and the remainder running quickly to maintain the element of surprise on the Fallen.

Over the din of battle it was observed that at least three separate occasions, the lone scout heard the Khabranthian as clearly as one might hear someone at the table opposite in a tavern. His skin crawled and the hairs on his arm stood up. Those poor bastards that have to contend with him.

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Sahrag "absolutely truthful, why in the world would I make this up?" recount of the events that transpired after the gates opened. (Several ales deep and with a lady on each arm at this point the next evening after the initial battle)

"Having swept aside the puny resistance completely unaided, I charged upwards into the city, ahead of our forces, some people were following me, I do not know who. Seeing a fancy enemy in flashy armour, I naturally charged them without a second thought. These pathetic milk-drinkers couldn't stop the mighty Sahrag! Ha!
Slicing my way through ten in a single sweep (probably three maximum, he's hammered) I charged up the stairs and came upon a worthy foe. An enemy General and his personal fluffers stood no chance before me. However, before I could challenge the sap to a fight, this scoundrel Tysion leaps forward and tosses what seems to be a keg of Dwarven Ale onto the ground. Now, I might be in full killing mode, but I hate to see a good drink go to waste. This drink however did not burst when it struck the upper floor of the building, rather it was smoking and fizzling like no drink I have ever seen! Before I knew it, there was a huge bang! The building was ruined and bodies were flung everywhere. I of course stepped out of the rubble unharmed and looked about for my foe, this barbarian always gets what he wants! Ha! (The Khabranthian winks at each lady on his arm in turn at this point).
Pushing my way past my fellows I simply grabbed the General and ripped his bloody ear off (Yes he is waving it in our faces right now). I wanted to know if the kind Pyrencian would tell be where his leader was cowering, but before he could answer, I was unfairly stabbed in the back. Now I'm not a coward but I know one where I see one. He was despatched by my good friend and drinking buddy, Breena. Now back to me, ah yes. I tore his throat out and now have his head adorning my belt like a sporrin. My friends begged to be covered from the encroaching horde of Fallen warriors drawn towards us from the blast and I, loath to fight sober, decided to oblige them and here we are: Planning our next stage of assault to take that bastard's head.


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Petra Ravnikaar of The Veil


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