Fall, 1334

A new threat had arisen. Lord Scaliae, Lord McClintock, and Lord Boehmer had temporarily laid aside their squabbling in the hopes of seizing Northern Tassure, and the long awaited invasion of Nicaea finally began. The human coalition had assembled a force of nearly three thousand strong, including one hundred and fifty knights. Even with the Trasgu having consolidated from seventeen Beyliks to seven, the filibusters were more powerful than all the Other Man armies combined. Awed by their strength, the Beys crumbled one by one: Thwoer surrendered Tarsus after a short siege, and Gebers surrendered Quarai soon after. The Road to Nicaea was clear, with only Thorkell’s small Beylik of Mysia in the way.

‘We have to do something about these invaders.’ Captain Mewe Rohs said simply when the reports arrived.

Bey Jan Thorkell was silent. With his trusted subordinate beside him the commander looked down upon his trusty map of Tassure, collected in the twilight of the Empire. Even dirty and worn and filled with scribbles, the massive parchment revealed detailed and accurate landmarks and terrain and marks of distances. Atop a table, the map was covered with flags and wooden figures depicting friendly and enemy troop formations. A mass of the united invaders, accurately counted by his spies, were in the center, bearing down on the city.

3000 enemy troops.

Against the Redeemer Lords, Thorkell had barely 300 men.

Captain Rohs nervously scratched at his neck. He turned to his leader, who through a year sweat and blood had just managed to carve out their small haven now under existential threat.

‘What do we do Jan? Even in siege, it was unlikely that Mysia could hold out.’

Bey Thorkel shook his head. ‘We march. Only a strong offensive policy could make up for the superior numbers of the enemy.’

'We're going on the attack?' Rohs asked in shock.

'We face them because everyone, including the Auxians, expect us to flee and hide. If besieged, Mysia will fall. But what if it wasn't besieged? Besides, we have 300 hand picked warriors, heated in the fires of the Great War and hammered through our struggles with the Beyliks. How many warriors do they have?' Bey Thorkel smiled, and pushed his own units towards the filibusters. 'We march.'

His subordinate frowned, but finally put his fist to his chest.

'I obey, Jan.'

***

Leaving only a skeleton force of a few dozen soldiers in the capital, Bey Thorkell’s soldiers marched out. The Trasgu footmen were few in number but they were well armed, protected with disk armor and bascinet with visor, and armed with naginata. They were also fiercely loyal to Thorkell, and willing to die for him and their cause.

Only a few miles from the city, the Mysian forces turned off the road, ascending a steep hill named Žižkov overlooking the Northern Silys a mile away. Atop, surrounded by steep slopes on three sides covered with vineyards lay an old fort from the Mercian Wars that still dominated the main road towards Nicaea. The 250-odd troops immediately began improving the defenses, erecting walls out of palisades, crates and wagons, supported with stones, digging a network of trenches, and setting up a firing platform for a scorpion and a manogel. Most importantly, they raised a gigantic flag, depicting the green and black taegeuk upon a blue field, the symbol of Mysia, clearly visible from five miles away along the road.

***

Trudging along the dusty Nicean Highway in front of their long column of soldiers, the Redeemer Lords could not help but notice the defiant gesture.

Lord Broehme stopped and lifted his helm visor to stare, and was soon joined by Lords Scaliae and McClintock.

“There’s the Mysian forces.” The first stated.

“Why did they pull out of Mysia?” Lord Scaliae replied.

“Who cares? They leave the city open for my taking.” Lord McClintock shrugged.

"You're taking? Mysia is mine!" Lord Scaliae interrupted, glaring at his rival.

"Peace!” Lord Brohme raised his hand into the air. “We can divide control after waiting to destroy these defiant rebels. Stay guard for reinforcements, while I drive off these saucy upstarts."

Lord McClintock snorted. "And hog all the glory for back home? Not in your life, Brohme!" With that the Lord of the Four Roses raised his sword and yelled at his troops, and soon McClintock's forces broke off and headed towards the hill.

"You two think you're so schemy, don't you?” Lord Scaliae yelled back. “Destroy the Other Men and then use that for pushing your claims on Tassure? I'm coming too!" Quickly the banner of the Blue Gargoyle peeled off the road as well.

With a shrug, Lord Brohme gestured for his own forces, bearing the Red Wheel on the Orange Field to follow suit.

***

As expected, when the Redeemer forces arrived, they took the provocation and turned, deploying before they began ascending the front of Žižkov Hill.

Onward they came, banners flying, horsemen riding in loose formation with long lines of infantry following behind, carefully picking their way up the incline. The riders were mostly knights, many veterans of the Great War, clad in transitional armor, their horses in caparisons, lances and swords glistening in the morning sun. The footmen were less experienced, mainly feudal levies clad in brigandine and spangenhelms armed with spears and axes, with a trained contingent of bowmen guarding the flanks. Still the Redeemer forces were large in number, and they were confident of victory, to the extent that Lords Scaliae, McClintock, and Boehme, riding in the vanguard, continued bickering among themselves as they advanced.

"In the name of the Redeemers!" Lord Brohme called up to the waiting Trasgu. "Surrender you Other Men, and-"

"Why are you asking them to surrender? We should just kill them!"

Watching from the palisades at the sea of humans approaching, with the enemy archers moving up to lay suppressing fire upon the Mysian position, Thorkell’s forces hunkered down and awaited the onslaught.

As arrows and bolts began whistling overhead, Captain Rohs hugged the side of the palisade. Thorkell was close by, however he was standing atop a crate instead of sheltering behind it, heedless of the projectiles whistling by.

‘We are still outnumbered almost ten to one.’ Mewe called out, gesturing at the mass of humanity approaching. ‘It feels like the whole world is arrayed against us. How do we survive?’

The Bey of Mysia laughed. ‘We have to have faith in ourselves and our people.’

Then Thorkell turned and raised his Boeotian helm in gesture to the troops around them.

The Mysian forces cheered in response. Despite himself, Captain Rohs gave a smile and cheered as well.

***

Meanwhile, a half mile below, Lord McClintock raised his sword and pointed it at the large banner fluttering atop the enemy's rude wall.

"For the glory of humanity! Attack!"

"Glory under the righteous Heavens!" Lord Boehme joined with a lance.

"Damn these Green Men!" Lord Scaliae added.

At that, the Auxian horsemen and footmen broke into a run, surging up towards the Trasgu fort. As the line of enemy troops reached the first palisade, Throkell raised his mace.

‘Let’s play their game Mewe.’ The Bey called out before yelling his first order. ‘Fire!’

Immediately the scorpion and manogel crews launched their payloads aimed at the pre-marked positions.

Halfway through working their way up, through, or around the palisade, horsemen and footmen were immediately caught exposed as darts and bolts landed among the tightly bunched ranks, cutting down scores of individuals and sending up a fine red mist into the air.

A second later Captain Rohs yelled out: ‘Volleys! Now!’ and a sheet of arrows followed suit, threshing through the mass of Redeemer troops that had managed to maneuver past.

Staggering, the Auxians fell back a short distance. Then they regrouped and charged again, surging up the steep slope through the palisade and the killing field, braving a storm of arrows and darts, the archers firing suppressing fire as they advanced.

In the fort Trasgu were also falling, cut down by the returning storm of projectiles. They were in a better position, better protected, better prepared and better trained, but the enemy had sheer numbers. Half of the gun crews were soon dead or wounded, but still they kept up their deadly fire, lobbing darts and bolts, desperately trying to stem the attacking humans and horses.

After a few minutes, slowed by the ditches and other barriers, the surviving attackers reached the second palisade in front of the fort itself and again scrambled to climb over, the Mysians firing at them at point blank range. One knight managed to leap over the barricade with his horse, while another tried but failed, his horse impaling itself atop the frise and throwing the rider into the spikes as well. The successful knight and rider sowed chaos through the Trasgu ranks, hacking and trampling through the Mysian forces until finally Captain Rohs unhorsed the rider with a thrust of his trident, then dispatched the individual on the ground. This was an exception however, as a pile of filibuster bodies gradually filled the ditch below the walls. Still despite the violent opposition, the humans gained a foothold and were now able to climb over the palisade and begin hacking it apart.

As the wooden stakes were finally torn down, the Redeemer Lords, banners in hand, triumphantly rode their horses through and up the ramparts of the fort.

There was no one there. Besides a few bodies, a scattering of figures, and the Mysian banner still fluttering in the breeze, the fort was empty.

Knights and footmen soon surged over the walls to join their lords, and all milled around in confusion. A few people began to lower the flag, while Lord McClintock rode up to one of the few standing figures with a naginata and immediately swiped its head off with one blow. The helm, stuffed with hay, noisily clattered to the ground.

“Strawmen?”

“The Other Men fled!”

“Where are they?” Lord Scaliae asked.

That question was answered a few seconds later when a horn blared nearby.

‘Attack!’

Immediately the Trasgu troops rushed out from their hiding trenches around the top of the hill and counterattacked the mass of Redeemer troops in the fort from three sides. Captain Rohs leaped to his feet, and trident at the ready, charged back over the ramparts and into the old bailey, now filled with a tangled mass of men and horses. The veteran officer deftly thrust and swung his trident, bodily throwing knights off horses and impaling two or three footmen at once. Hemmed in by the Mysians, the walls of the fort, and even their own troops behind them, the Redeemer soldiers were unable to effectively respond, or even move. With hundreds of Auxians crammed inside, the little stockade soon became a slaughter pen.

Caught in the trap, Lord Brohme desperately attempted to cut his way out. “There’s not many of them! Follow my lead and we’ll break through!”

With that support, the Redeemer forces focused their attack West, threatening to overwhelm the position there. However with a yell Bey Throkell charged into the midst of that faltering position, immediately smashing his way through to the Redeemer Lord himself. Both swung their weapons at each other at the same time. The Bey ducked just in time, the human lance knocking off his Boeotian helmet, while the Trasgu mace slammed right into the Lord’s Hounskull, sending him toppling to the ground. In an instant, the Lord of Moore’s Creek was trampled by his own panicked horse, and stunned by this development, his troops faltered in their attack.

Meanwhile, Rohs was cutting his way through the Auxian position when Lord McClintock reared his horse and charged, attempting to trample the upstart Mysian. Captain Rohs nimbly leaped aside and plunged his trident into the side of the Lord’s mount, sending the horse crumpling to the ground nearby and trapping its rider on the saddle. In an instant, the old Tassurian was atop the fallen beast, ready to deal the coup-de-grace to the Redeemer commander. Instead, Lord McClintock raised both arms into the air, index fingers extended.

“Mercy!”

Captain Rohs stopped, trident halfway thrust in the air. He remembered a surrender that he had participated in years before. A whole world ago then, when a near disaster had turned suddenly into victory. Then pride at that victory in turn had led to defeat.

The Fates were fickle.

The Trasgu slowly lowered his weapon. "Alright Auxian.” He finally said, beckoning a nearby soldier to take his hostage.

Seeing the disaster unfolding, Lord Scaliae turned his horse and fled down the only direction that remained unopposed, the front of the fort from which the humans had attacked. Now leaderless and abandoned, the Redeemer forces quickly broke and followed suit. Fleeing in all haste, accidentally trampling some of their comrades, footmen and knights raced back down the hill in a complete, uncontrollable mob, some plunging over the sides of the cliffs in their haste to get away. In a few chaotic minutes, the fort was finally cleared of the enemy and left carpeted with their fallen.

Amidst the ruins of the fort, Captain Mewe Rohs looked around in shock at what had transpired.

Then he raised his bloody trident into the air.

‘Victory!’

Roh’s call was quickly taken up by the other battered survivors, and the old screams and yips echoed across the landscape.

As the cheers finally died down, and the half-lowered Mysian banner pulled back atop the pole, a familiar figure trampled to the middle of the fort.

Helmless, blood flowing from the glancing blow on the side of his head, Thorkell nevertheless stood radiant, like an avatar of war. Fire in his eyes, the Bey of Mysia shrugged off his wounds and brushed off the dirt and grime from his armor and laughed, going over to embrace his subordinate.

‘Didn’t I say we could beat them?’ He roared.

Captain Mewe Rohs laughed as well. 'You did Jan, you did. That will be in the legends.

'Psh. This is not worth remembering, Mewes.'

The captain broke his embrace and looked at his commander in admiration.

'It is. You showed us to hope again. We were guilty of hubris and we paid for that. But we have learned and we are still free men. You have reminded us to fight for that instead.'

Rohs suddenly knelt before his surprised commander, and the two hundred odd Mysian survivors followed suit.

The captain lowered his head.

‘You have proven yourself a leader and we will follow you to the ends of the Earth.’

***

To the surprise of nearly everyone, Thorkell’s Nationalist forces not only survived the encirclement of the Redeemer Lords but had defeated and slaughtered the knights, driving them back in confusion. It had been a stunning turnaround. Of the Redeemer Lords, Lord Bohme was dead, Lord McClintock was captured, and Lord Scaliae was fleeing back to Akkaido faster than any of his men. Four hundred human bodies littered the field, including fifty knights; another three hundred were taken prisoner, including thirty knights.

The Redeemer Lords had been humiliated, if not destroyed.

Bidgewell simply shook his head as he wrapped up the message from Liza.

Woden was more vocal. “I don’t like it. The Northerners are reuniting. This Thorkell is too dangerous to be left al-”

Logan held up his hand. He was sick of politics. “Ach, let them be. We have our own lives to concern ourselves with.”

Woden stopped and nodded. “Very well, sir.”

---

Hell's Comin' with Me - PoorMansPoison

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