Ashes to Ashes - A Mount&Blade: Warband RP

[FreemasonGamer]

Komolov listened intently to his comrades' concerns, taking into consideration what Bellatrix and Cameron had suggested specifically; they were correct in that making camp anywhere near the vicinity of these bandits for the night would be treacherous and most likely foolhardy, so their best chances of success rested in a plan to attack them sooner rather than later. Casting his gaze into the darkened forest, Komolov nodded finally as took a step towards the trees. "Very well. I would suggest that we prepare for a fight this evening, then. However, we'll need to know where exactly they are hiding amid these trees. Unless anyone else is suited and willing for the task, I'll scout on ahead and return with hopefully viable information."

 

Not a moment after saying such, Komolov darted quietly into the underbrush. Crouching low to the ground as he prowled through the forest, the Vaegir relied upon his proficiency of stealth and hunting to navigate the woodlands whilst making as little of a presence as possible. Soon after trekking quietly into the forest, he noticed distant lights and sounds of habitation that drifted through the forest to the north of him; following the subtle lights and sounds, Komolov began to slow his pace until he eventually came to the edge of a clearing, the veil of thick foliage and approaching night shrouding him from view. In the clearcut area amongst the trees, Komolov discovered the camp of bandits, and most of which seemed either carefree or ignorant as night brought on their humanly nature to drink, jest, and converse among themselves. Komolov also noted the occasional shrill or cackle of feminine companions among the company of masculine marauders.

 

Nearly a dozen tents—if not more—decorated their encampment, which was illuminated with a good number of crowded campfires. Their camp also contained scattered remnants of past raids and thefts; chests and crates of numerous varieties were scattered about, most of which had long since been looted of content. The bandits themselves were the typical sort; petty thieves, highwaymen, and thugs who had carved out an insidious living amongst their own kind while preying upon the less fortunate. The Vaegir made sure to take his time observing them, as he sought to bring back as much quality information as possible. Once he had gathered enough sufficient information regarding their quarry, Komolov slowly and quietly returned to his peers at the outer fringe of the forest after being gone for some forty odd minutes spent scouting out their prey.

 

"Their camp is less than a mile into the forest, just to the north. I counted fifty men of fighting prowess, give or take; there were also a handful of women there, sounded like." Komolov informed his companions upon his return.

 

He quickly removed his duster, quiver, halberd, and composite bow, resting his effects against a tree before equipping his behterets plated chainmail vest over his undershirt, which he had kept in his satchel. The Vaegir then quickly readjusted and fastened his leather bracers and greaves. Once he had prepared his modestly light armor for battle, Komolov quickly pulled his duster and weapons back over his shoulders. "I suggest our knight and Sword Sister lead the charge, then the rest of us can sweep behind them and comb through whatever poor souls are still alive in their wake." After a moment of consideration, Komolov grabbed his composite bow; not only was he more confident with it, but this was not the first time he would be taking shots in the dark.

Edited May 20, 2015 by FreemasonGamer

[AurianaValoria1]

Bellatrix nodded, her face barely visible in the dying light of the day, "Very well. Slay the men and spare the women. Sir Cameron?" She turned to the knight, tightening her grip on the reins and drawing her sword, "After you."

[Macman253]

Bjorn spat as the others made the battleplan, he pulled his axe free of it's loop on his saddle and ran his thumb along the edge, drawing a bead of blood that ran down his thumb, stopping at his wrist. He spoke a few whispered prayers and turned his horse around to face them.

 

"A Nord does not attack when his enemy cannot see him.. besides.. I fare better when face to face with my foes." He said, giving a glare towards the Swadian, "I do not kill those without weapons or those who have their backs to me." He growled in his usual Nordic accent, with that said he turned his horse around and started to charge at the unsuspecting Bandits. He whooped and hollered as he rode at breakneck speed, he urged his horse faster with the haft of his axe.

 

"Today is a good day to die!" He yelled just before leaping from his mount into a disorganized group of the Bandits, horse, nord and bandit collided in a terrible crash that sent men to the ground. Bjorn landed shoulder first into a bandit that was readying his shield but was unable to bring it up in time to stop the death or glory charge of the Nord. Bjorn was on his feet as fast as a cat, he had obviously done this kind of tactic before. He raised his axe and drove it into the skull of a bandit as he fumbled for his cudgel.

 

"One!" Bjorn cried as he ripped the axe free and charged after another Bandit.

[Flipout6]

"...That one will find himself fortunate if his barbarianism doesn't leave his thumb needing amputation." Cameron commented icily as he watched the Nord charge off to face a group of forty bandits on his own. "I'll wait a few seconds. He'll have most of the camp surrounding him by the time I get there."

 

Indeed, once a few seconds had passed, Cameron shouted and spurred his warhorse into a gallop, going just slow enough to navigate his way through the tangle of trees while crashing through anything else that got in his way. Once he hit the clearing in which the small bandit horde resided he found that most of the camp had been roused already. In the faint lighting of the campfires and dusky sky he sighted the targets in his path: a sizable group of ruffians, weapons drawn and numbering at least five, were moving to intercept Bjorn, ignoring his horse for the time being in favor of their bloodlust. Fortunately, this served as their undoing.

 

With enough space to spur his steed to a full gallop, Cameron plowed right through them, with his lance skewering those few that managed to dive out of the way of his mount and avoid being trampled. He grinned to himself as he felt the jarring impact of his lance as the tip sailed into a target, tearing her crude light armor to shreds and slipping through her flesh and impaling her chest. Without so much as a gasp one of the few female bandits was tossed gracelessly into the dirt, gagging and coughing up her own blood.

 

Too soon, Cameron's momentum had carried him almost to the treeline on the opposite side of the camp. He turned himself around as fast as he could, making short work of impaling a pair of targets that were sticking to the fringes of the battle, one of which had a boy and the other was simply a coward. He was certainly drawing some attention of his own now. He roared as he spurred Aristide into another full gallop, hunching down and preparing for impact, intending to both demoralize and terrify the enemy to prevent them from mustering, provided that they even possessed the capability for such "advanced" tactics. A cluster of them broke up, most of them running for the trees, but a few were brave enough to at least try to stand and fight. Two were trampled and the last met the pointed tip of Cameron's lance, screaming.

[josh900]

A short ways from the clearing, hidden within the trees Cair Mac Naidh couldn't help but snicker. "A good day to die eh? By the boils on me grans flappy arse cheeks, who in all the piss in the well says something like that?" He said in his native brogue as he watched the horseman leap off his horse and onto one of the bandits in the clearing.

"Oh, that type of person." He said with a laugh as the fight began.

 

"So are we gonna help them orrr?" Came the voice next to him as they watched from the safety of the trees.

 

"Naah, I never liked em anyways. Once the rumble's done I'll offer em a chance to surrender, survivors ain't gonna be in the state to keep fighting I'd bet. Two birds with one stone here, get of these pigs and get a fat cut of loot after. Just tell the boys to get ready, this won't last long methinks." He explained with a smirk, enjoying the sight of the bandit's being slaughtered like the beast they were.

[AurianaValoria1]

Bellatrix could only gape open-mouthed for a few moments after Bjorn, stunned to silence by his sudden and foolish maneuver...

 

Then, she finally came back to her senses and dug her spurs into the old nag's flanks, "Come on girl, get up!" The paint mare grunted and broke into a mere trot, frustrating her rider to no end as the cloud of dust from Cameron's charger quickly began to dissipate in front of them. Bellatrix huffed, "Get! Come on!" She smacked the flat of her blade on the paint's rump, and that seemed to provoke a better reaction; the horse whinnied and sped up into a slow canter, following far behind Aristide and clumsily crashing through the brush.

 

There were already stragglers who were beginning to flee, at once frightened and stunned by the sudden onslaught of the companions. The sword sister picked these as her targets: easy pickings to keep the rest of their foes contained in one general spot. The smell of blood caused the nag to reach a full gallop in panic, and Bellatrix used the momentum to her advantage. Wheeling around in front of one of the runners, she did not give him time to react before she let her sword swing down, leaving a yawning gash in his padded armor and chest from shoulder to hip. She then spun the nag on her heels and and cut down another with a backhanded slash just as an arrow whizzed dangerously close to her unarmored head. With a yell, she ducked down and spurred the paint onwards, keeping close to her steed's neck as she used her speed to send her blade point-first through another bandit's neck. He was carried for a few feet before slipping from the blade with a thunk.

 

Suddenly, the nag jumped the campfire that they had been heading straight for, and a surprise awaited them when they landed; one of the bandits had seen her coming and braced his spear...and Bellatrix glimpsed it all too late. The nag was skewered on the pike and Bellatrix was thrown over the mare's neck, tumbling head over heels into the dirt several feet away. She landed so hard from the momentum that the wind was knocked out of her, and the world spun dangerously as she lay on her back, stunned. The same outlaw who had slain her horse was then on top of her, holding her by the throat as he made to stab her with his dagger...

 

He didn't count on her having enough strength or flexibility to slam the hilt of her blade into his temple. He staggered backwards, trying to regain his footing, and while his balance was lost, she scrambled to her feet and thrust her blade through his torso. Pushing his corpse off with her foot, Bellatrix then glanced around, assessing the situation with breathless pants. Already, her blonde hair was coming loose from her bun, sticking to her sweaty forehead and neck.

 

Four in the first minute or so...not too shabby.

[FreemasonGamer]

Komolov cursed to himself when Bjorn disregarded their plan of attack and charged blindly ahead of Cameron and Bellatrix, leaving the rest of them behind and baffled. After the Swadian knight and sword sister rode off towards the camp, Komolov quickly dashed after them; it did not take too much effort to keep the horses within sight, for the pair of them more or less plowed a clean enough trail through the undergrowth for Komolov to easily jog a fair distance behind Bella's slow-moving painted mare. Once he arrived upon the scene of battle, Komolov caught sight of Bjorn, Cameron, and Bellatrix already shedding bandit blood. Smirking, the Vaegir kept to the fringe of battle, holding his composite bow tightly as he notched an arrow. Archery in the twilight wasn't for the inexperienced archer, but Komolov felt confident enough; the several fires dotting the camp also somewhat illuminated the bandits as they ran around wildly.

 

Similarly to Bellatrix, Komolov's attention was quickly drawn to those who sought to flee into the forests. Drawing back an arrow, Komolov leveled his sight onto a poor fool attempting to flee into the woods to his right; with the snap of the bowstring, Komolov's arrow sailed through the evening air and plunged into the small of the man's back, all but ignoring his padded armor. With a pained yelp, the bandit quickly fell to the ground. "One..." Komolov said under his breath, notching a second arrow.

 

To his left, the Vaegir then noticed a bandit archer standing among the tents and fires, loosing one arrow upon Bellatrix; while the arrow barely missed the sword sister, Komolov quickly drew back his bow, inhaled, and sent an arrow flying into the archer's chest, just above the collarbone. The growing darkness veiled the spray that followed the hit, and the bandit's legs buckled out from beneath him. "Two..." Komolov hissed, notching a third.

 

Amid the chaos, Komolov spotted many targets to fall prey to his arrows. "Three..." He said, the snap of his bowstring accenting the word. With each snap, another bandit fell to his knees, the soil becoming warm and soaked. However, Komolov scowled when his fourth arrow skewered one bandit's calf, painfully crippling him without ending his misery.

 

Cursing to himself, the Vaegir then saw one bandit wielding a wicked dagger charge towards him from his right side; Komolov tried to notch and draw back an arrow, but the distance between the two shrank too quickly, and he missed after loosing the arrow towards the approaching enemy. The bandit slashed wildly at the Vaegir, who ducked to his left in hopes of avoiding the blade. Unfortunately, Komolov widened his eyes as the biting pain of a poorly maintained blade cut into his right bicep. Roaring in pain, Komolov swung around and bashed the bandit with his composite bow as hard as he could, which thankfully struck him with enough force to at least challenge his balance. Thinking frantically, Komolov attempted to kick the bandit's feet out from under him; rearing backward, one firm kick did just the trick. Flat on his back, the bandit felt Komolov's boot quickly come down onto his neck. "Four..." The Vaegir grunted between stomps.

Edited May 22, 2015 by FreemasonGamer

[Macman253]

Bjorn looked a terrible visage as he rended a mans arm from his torso, the bandit screamed like woman giving birth and dropped, holding his spurting stump. "Four!" He cried, bodies of bandits surrounded him, many missing heads, arms, hands or faces. He was covered in arterial blood, his blonde hair was red, his face matching. His axe rose and fell, drawing a stream of blood as it struck.

 

He whirled the blade in a great arc, taking two bandits in the neck with one swing, their heads popping into the air. "Six!" He bellowed before laughing loudly. A small and dinky looking man with a dagger and small shield came at him with his shield raised, Bjorn grabbed the shield with his hand and ripped it free then dug his axe into the earth and whacked the bandit across the face with the shield, sending him face first into the mud and blood.

 

He spat on the injured man and picked up his axe to finish him off. "Seven." He said in a calm tone, the battle-fever raged in his head, he felt his heart beating in his chest like war drums. "It's a good life.." He said with a smile before he looked around him. Seven corpses lay nearby in their various states of dismemberment. He wiped the blood from his axe's head and hefted it up then took off at a run towards the archer as he tussled with a bandit.

 

"When all else fails.. crush 'is 'ead in right?" He said with a smile as he looked upon the Vaegir's handiwork. He slapped the Vaegir on the back, "Good lookin' out wit' yer' bow." He nodded and started back towards the battle.

[Flipout6]

Cameron was enjoying himself as he thundered about on Aristide, trampling "people" (he didn't consider them such, being little more than targets) under his horse's hooves and cutting his way through any enemy on his personal warpath. He had a close call when one of them, showing at least some experience and/or sense, braced himself with a spear right in Cameron's path. The Swadian had to swerve to the left at the last moment to prevent himself and Aristide from slamming into the tip of the weapon, and even then the awkward angle at which he jammed the lance into the bandit meant he barely avoided impaling his arm on the weapon himself. He let go of his lance before the unnatural angle of his arm combined with the jerking that the lance would inevitably cause when withdrawn from mangled flesh would have led to a sprain or break and drew his longsword in its place.

 

Immediately afterwards he heard the horrific, high-pitched screeching of a dying horse and frantically checked Aristide for injuries. He breathed a sigh of relief when he found none, circling the camp to avoid the enemy for a brief moment, but he quickly threw himself back into the fray. Having discovered the source of the noise as Bellatrix's nag died, Cameron didn't have time to admire the sword sister's prowess as he moved to defend her. She had her immediate foes well in hand, so the Knight threw himself hacking and slashing at any who appeared to be moving to surround or sneak up on the Sword Sister. His longsword did terrible damage to its victims as they had little armor to protect themselves with, and the momentum of a horse's charge added significant force to already-powerful blows. Cameron's eyes flashes as at least one victim had the majority of his face utterly destroyed by the blade, which pulled him into the dirt as it was yanked out of his skull.

 

When he deemed the gap in the bandits' grouping to be sufficient, he pulled up beside Bellatrix.

 

"Might I interest you in a ride?" He asked, grinning through his helmet, taking grim satisfaction from the blood being spilled.

[FreemasonGamer]

Komolov seemingly lost himself for a moment or two as he furiously stomped the bandit's unconscious form into a bloody corpse, and Bjorn's slap to the back suddenly jolted the Vaegir back to reality. Standing amid a disgusting mess, Komolov reeled slightly as he took a moment trying to rally his focus. The cut on his right bicep pained him, but the rush of blood and battle numbed the burning sensation ever so slightly. Gritting his teeth, Komolov clumsily slung his bow over his shoulder before grabbing his steel halberd.

 

"This hunt is not over..." He exhaled sharply, glancing around the ruined bandit camp; the Vaegir's wild gaze soon settled on one charging bandit who wielded a shortsword in one hand and a crude buckler shield in the other.

 

Gripping his halberd, Komolov roared painfully as he charged towards the bandit. Time seemed to stand still, suspended as the two combatants rushed towards each other. Suddenly, time rushed back towards the pair when they collided; the bandit failed to block or deflect the momentum of Komolov's thrusting halberd, and the bandit flailed his arms as the steel polearm impaled his stomach. Roaring still, Komolov continued to shove the skewered bandit forward, plowing him into the ground. Grunting, Komolov dug the heel of his boot into the fresh corpse in order to withdraw his halberd.

 

"Five..." He huffed, gazing around wildly for another target. Luckily, the nearest bandit had his back to Komolov; the marauder was too focused on darting towards Bellatrix and Cameron nearby to notice Komolov behind him.

 

Sprinting forward, Komolov made an upward swing from his right to left, slicing through the back of the bandit's padded shirt and digging into the flesh beneath. Crying out in pain, the bandit immediately collapsed into the soil and writhed weakly. The Vaegir then planted a firm foot onto the bandit's left shoulder, driving his halberd's tip between his shoulder blades, ending his misery.

 

"Six..." Komolov grunted as he pulled his halberd out of yet another corpse. However, the camp slowly began to tilt and sway around the Vaegir as his vision seemed to waver and his stomach churned slightly.

 

Komolov struggled to focus as pain in his right arm flared; his cut bicep radiated pain after the past several attacks. As he attempted to pull himself together again, another bandit came around a tent to his left, crying out as he charged him with a longsword in hand. Surprised by the sudden approach, Komolov immediately thrust his halberd forward. Stepping to his right, the bandit felt the Vaegir's polearm graze his left side painfully, and he narrowly escaped death. Exposed from the attack, Komolov widened his eyes as the bandit gripped the shaft of his halberd; pain raced up Komolov's left arm after his opponent quickly counterattacked with a drag-like cut across the Vaegir's exposed left forearm. Crying out in pain, Komolov desperately yanked his weapon out of the bandit's grip, wildly slashing upwards with his already agonized right arm, his left held against his chest. Had the halberd's tip not caught the bandit's jaw, Komolov would have missed him entirely.

 

Downright screaming in agony, the bandit fell onto his back as he held his splintered, gushing jaw. Stumbling forward, Komolov brought his halberd down into the bandit's abdomen, ensuring a seventh kill. Leaning against his halberd, Komolov breathed heavily as pain scorched both of his arms, his blood running down the shaft of his polearm. His knees trembling slightly, the Vaegir struggled to level his breathing; he did not proclaim his seventh slain bandit with words but with little more than pained, frightened gasps. In his worsening state, Komolov also began to lose touch with the battle raging on around him.

Edited May 23, 2015 by FreemasonGamer