856 submissions
Summer, 1335
In a few minutes the fighting began in earnest. A ferocious firefight erupted along the ridgeline as the Normad troops under Major Stahel assaulted all along the cliffs and exchanged volleys of arrows and bolts with the Erolanders, some of the defenders rolling the giant stones down upon the humans below. It was a bloody duel, but Lord de Trobliand had a purpose to it. While the bulk of his forces pinned down the defenders, the Normad Lord had Logan, Meratezatgh, and 500 of his maréchaussée under Captain Metis work their way up the sheer cliff edges of Turner’s Rocks and around the flank of the NeoTassurian defensive line at Rocky Face Ridge a mile away.
“I hate fighting in forests. I feel like a duck trapped in a net.” Mera grumbled as the hunter and dragon clawed up the rocky slopes of the ridge.
“We need your firepower, just in case.”
Mera gestured to his left arm with his snout. “I did tell you where I got that scar right? A forest very much like this one.”
“Mier’s Forest. Well now you have far better protection.” Logan knocked his knuckles on the dragon’s armored coat.
Mera shook his head. “It’s not ballistas I’m afraid of, it’s not knowing what’s ahead of me.”
Slowly Logan, the dragon and Metis’ demi-regiment made its way over the crest of the Rocks and then silently, in loose formation with weapons at the ready, followed the ridgeline South. Near the edge of Rocky Face Ridge itself, they faced a call, indistinct yelling, and a scattered volley of arrows. Erolander skirmishers. Logan, Metis and the Normad skirmishers replied and the whole Normad line began rushing forward.
A large promontory stood ahead of them. The opposing fire increased drastically in volume. This had to be the enemy flank. Logan lowered his helm and rested his awlpike in the pit of his arm.
“Charge Mera!”
With a roar, the dragon plunged forward, leading the Normad troops up the slopes. A line of Erolander spearmen and swordsmen appeared, awaiting Lord de Troblaind’s main attack to their front. The dragon smashed into them like so many bowling pins, burning and slashing and scattering the survivors. Within minutes Metis’ maréchaussée followed, and the momentum quickly crushed the defending units, driving them from their defenses.
Metis pulled off his helm to wave his troops forward. “Press on! We’re rolling them up!”
Logan, Mera and Metis’ troops, now joined by Lord De Trobliand and the main body of his forces, continued their assault, pressing the defenders as they were sequentially unhinged from the position and pursuing them southwards. Ahead of them Logan saw a second, slightly lower hill below Rocky Face Ridge, a narrow saddle connecting the two promontories. There the Other Men had prepared another set of defenses, a new, previously undetected fallback position. As the Erolanders retreated down the shelf and back up the main ridge, Metis’ maréchaussée stopped and hit them with volleys of arrows, cutting down their opponents by the score. Some of the surviving Erolander returned fire, creating another long-distance duel between the opposing archers. Muddy and grimy, Lord De Trobliand appeared in the front line, unperturbed by this development.
“Keep up the attack. Colonel, send your skirmishers on a general sweep over. Logan, on my mark, attack down with your dragon. Metis will support your attack."
While half of his force continued suppressive fire from the top of the his hillock, Stahel threw his heavy lines of skirmishers below either side of the shelf and had them gradually work their way back up to the Erolander hillock. Then as the combined Normad forces, clinging to the rocks below the Erolander position, pinned down the defenders with their suppressive fire, the Normad sent his hilltop force under Logan and the dragon to assault down the hillock, through the shelf, and up to the Erolander position.
Logan and Mera had just begun charging up the shelf to Stahel’ skirmishers when suddenly the ground beneath the dragon’s forepaws gave way.
The dragon roared in surprise.
Blindly flailing forwards as the ground below collapsed, Mera had barely managed to grab onto the front edge of the pit with one forepaw, his right leg, tail and wings keeping his rear atop as well while his head and other arm and leg were left dangling into the forty-foot cavity below, just grazing the six-foot spiked punji sticks awaiting his fall.
Logan yelled as well.
“Fuck!”
Carried forward by the abrupt jerk, the Forester was thrown from his saddle and soon found himself hanging onto one of Mera’s larger horns, trying not to fall in. His awlpike went clattering down between the spikes. Two Normad archers, unlucky enough to be close to the dragon, were already at the bottom impaled by the stakes.
It was a trou de loup, a wolf trap, only in this case with dragon as the wolf. Thorkell’s engineers had structured the cover so that it would not collapse under the weight of several humans, but would for something far heavier.
The dragon struggled to keep his balance atop the pit, the spikes aimed right at his unprotected belly.
“Can you get out of this thing?” Logan asked.
“Maybe. Could you stop swinging on my horns? I need my balance.”
With some effort, Logan managed to pull himself onto Mera’s horns, though at a cost of jerking the dragon’s head-and the dragon’s entire right side- deeper into the pit.
“Goddamn it Logan! Don’t do that again-”
“If I can just get back onto your neck-”
As if to add insult to injury, a large weighted net suddenly came crashing down over the dragon.
“Just great.” Mera muttered.
At that moment, hundreds of Erolanders appeared ahead of them, cheering and waving their claymores, sparths and targes before charging down towards the trapped dragon and rider.
‘Kill Gremenal’s Bane and his rider!’
As the tide of opponents descended upon them Logan desperately tried to crawl his way to Mera’s neck, while the dragon equally urgently attempted to keep his balance, crawl to safety and get out from under the net.
“Shit shit shit shit!" Dragon and man simultaneously swore.
Willow's Drum - John Barleycorn
Beautiful work from
Purple-blep! She deserves more followers, give her a watch!
Original: https://www.furaffinity.net/view/36621682/
In a few minutes the fighting began in earnest. A ferocious firefight erupted along the ridgeline as the Normad troops under Major Stahel assaulted all along the cliffs and exchanged volleys of arrows and bolts with the Erolanders, some of the defenders rolling the giant stones down upon the humans below. It was a bloody duel, but Lord de Trobliand had a purpose to it. While the bulk of his forces pinned down the defenders, the Normad Lord had Logan, Meratezatgh, and 500 of his maréchaussée under Captain Metis work their way up the sheer cliff edges of Turner’s Rocks and around the flank of the NeoTassurian defensive line at Rocky Face Ridge a mile away.
“I hate fighting in forests. I feel like a duck trapped in a net.” Mera grumbled as the hunter and dragon clawed up the rocky slopes of the ridge.
“We need your firepower, just in case.”
Mera gestured to his left arm with his snout. “I did tell you where I got that scar right? A forest very much like this one.”
“Mier’s Forest. Well now you have far better protection.” Logan knocked his knuckles on the dragon’s armored coat.
Mera shook his head. “It’s not ballistas I’m afraid of, it’s not knowing what’s ahead of me.”
Slowly Logan, the dragon and Metis’ demi-regiment made its way over the crest of the Rocks and then silently, in loose formation with weapons at the ready, followed the ridgeline South. Near the edge of Rocky Face Ridge itself, they faced a call, indistinct yelling, and a scattered volley of arrows. Erolander skirmishers. Logan, Metis and the Normad skirmishers replied and the whole Normad line began rushing forward.
A large promontory stood ahead of them. The opposing fire increased drastically in volume. This had to be the enemy flank. Logan lowered his helm and rested his awlpike in the pit of his arm.
“Charge Mera!”
With a roar, the dragon plunged forward, leading the Normad troops up the slopes. A line of Erolander spearmen and swordsmen appeared, awaiting Lord de Troblaind’s main attack to their front. The dragon smashed into them like so many bowling pins, burning and slashing and scattering the survivors. Within minutes Metis’ maréchaussée followed, and the momentum quickly crushed the defending units, driving them from their defenses.
Metis pulled off his helm to wave his troops forward. “Press on! We’re rolling them up!”
Logan, Mera and Metis’ troops, now joined by Lord De Trobliand and the main body of his forces, continued their assault, pressing the defenders as they were sequentially unhinged from the position and pursuing them southwards. Ahead of them Logan saw a second, slightly lower hill below Rocky Face Ridge, a narrow saddle connecting the two promontories. There the Other Men had prepared another set of defenses, a new, previously undetected fallback position. As the Erolanders retreated down the shelf and back up the main ridge, Metis’ maréchaussée stopped and hit them with volleys of arrows, cutting down their opponents by the score. Some of the surviving Erolander returned fire, creating another long-distance duel between the opposing archers. Muddy and grimy, Lord De Trobliand appeared in the front line, unperturbed by this development.
“Keep up the attack. Colonel, send your skirmishers on a general sweep over. Logan, on my mark, attack down with your dragon. Metis will support your attack."
While half of his force continued suppressive fire from the top of the his hillock, Stahel threw his heavy lines of skirmishers below either side of the shelf and had them gradually work their way back up to the Erolander hillock. Then as the combined Normad forces, clinging to the rocks below the Erolander position, pinned down the defenders with their suppressive fire, the Normad sent his hilltop force under Logan and the dragon to assault down the hillock, through the shelf, and up to the Erolander position.
Logan and Mera had just begun charging up the shelf to Stahel’ skirmishers when suddenly the ground beneath the dragon’s forepaws gave way.
The dragon roared in surprise.
Blindly flailing forwards as the ground below collapsed, Mera had barely managed to grab onto the front edge of the pit with one forepaw, his right leg, tail and wings keeping his rear atop as well while his head and other arm and leg were left dangling into the forty-foot cavity below, just grazing the six-foot spiked punji sticks awaiting his fall.
Logan yelled as well.
“Fuck!”
Carried forward by the abrupt jerk, the Forester was thrown from his saddle and soon found himself hanging onto one of Mera’s larger horns, trying not to fall in. His awlpike went clattering down between the spikes. Two Normad archers, unlucky enough to be close to the dragon, were already at the bottom impaled by the stakes.
It was a trou de loup, a wolf trap, only in this case with dragon as the wolf. Thorkell’s engineers had structured the cover so that it would not collapse under the weight of several humans, but would for something far heavier.
The dragon struggled to keep his balance atop the pit, the spikes aimed right at his unprotected belly.
“Can you get out of this thing?” Logan asked.
“Maybe. Could you stop swinging on my horns? I need my balance.”
With some effort, Logan managed to pull himself onto Mera’s horns, though at a cost of jerking the dragon’s head-and the dragon’s entire right side- deeper into the pit.
“Goddamn it Logan! Don’t do that again-”
“If I can just get back onto your neck-”
As if to add insult to injury, a large weighted net suddenly came crashing down over the dragon.
“Just great.” Mera muttered.
At that moment, hundreds of Erolanders appeared ahead of them, cheering and waving their claymores, sparths and targes before charging down towards the trapped dragon and rider.
‘Kill Gremenal’s Bane and his rider!’
As the tide of opponents descended upon them Logan desperately tried to crawl his way to Mera’s neck, while the dragon equally urgently attempted to keep his balance, crawl to safety and get out from under the net.
“Shit shit shit shit!" Dragon and man simultaneously swore.
Willow's Drum - John Barleycorn
Beautiful work from
Purple-blep! She deserves more followers, give her a watch!Original: https://www.furaffinity.net/view/36621682/
Category Artwork (Digital) / Fantasy
Species Western Dragon
Size 1280 x 1232px
File Size 181.7 kB
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