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| Fintan_de_Marin
Posts: 1,511 Status: Duke Karma: +250 [+1] [-1]   |
Subject: An Odd Meeting | |||||
| Keeva had no problems landing her forces in Hydroya. The people gladly welcomed her. The elves, without delay rushed in to Kilmirna, attacking every Commonwealth outpost there was. Fintan led the Ricitmen, Rogrican cavalry on the backs of giant eagles, in to Daron. The Westlanders landed on the shores of Broline, and the Dragons aided the Highlanders in Oric. However, Camdules sensed retaliation, thus he called all of his men to defend Gurie, and so they met no resistance. The five armies set their sights on Gurie, using hawks to send their messages to each other. The long journey took several weeks for all factions. When they met, a massive camp was set up, about half a day's march from Stromwall. With ten thousand Arelians, six thousand Elves, seven thousand Westlanders, two thousand Rogricans, and two hundred dragons, it was the biggest encampment that the Arelian Empire, let alone Kingdom, had ever seen. Both the Commonwealth and Royalists sent patrols out regularly to keep watch on enemy movements. On occasion, the patrols would meet. To avoid as much blood shed was possible, the Arelian Musketeers donned Commonwealth uniforms, but maintained their tricorn hats. However, accidents were not at all uncommon... The Rogrican soared over the grasslands of Gurie, keeping a watchful eye out. The morning sun gently warmed the feathers of his Ricit. Or as the Arelians called them; Great Eagles. In the distance the Rogrican could see the outline of Stromwall. He decided it was best not to try and taunt the garrison, Arelian cannons and ballistas were among the more formidable. The rider turned his winged steed around, heading back to the camp. He hardly started back when he saw four royal blue coated soldiers. Commonwealth musketeers. He put his eagle in to a dive. It dove like a stone in a river, plunging down at terrifying speeds. It's talons outstretched to the leader. "GET DOWN SIR!" One of the musketeers pushed his captain down on to the ground just before being grabbed by the bird. the other two went down as well, aiming in to the sky. The musket of the captain discharged, hitting the feathers of the best and nothing more. "I'll have that traitor's head!" Fintan's voice rang out, pushing the musketeer off of him. "What was that thing, sir?" Asked a younger soldier. "A treacherous Rogrican!" He took the soldier's musket. "This is the only way to deal with their lot!" He brought his musket to arms as the eagle soared towards them for another pass. The Rogrican that mounted the bird drew back on his bow, aiming at Fintan. The arrow loosed, but the poor aim showed just how inexperienced the man was with a bow on a moving animal like that. The force of the wind slowed the arrow deeply. When it struck Fintan's left arm, it hardly had enough power to go though all the way, but it did break through the coat and hit Fintan's arm. The musket went off, the second Fintan was hit. It struck the bird's wing, missing it's mark. Fintan was forced to drop the musket as the bird crashed to the ground a few yards away. "Sir!" One of the soldiers rushed over as Fintan held his arm. The arrow went through the inside of his upper left arm. This was going to make battle difficult if he did not get the proper medical attention. Fintan pushed it though, and out grimacing in pain. For some reason, it was the nonfatal wounds that hurt the most, possibly because one knows they will live, but live through pain. "Leave me...but get me a pistol..." He noticed the Rogrican seeing to it the bird was going to live, then with a yell, drew his sword and went for a charge. It was a foolish thing to do against men with long range weapons of a musket's caliber, but needed for the Rogrican's honor. The musketeer drew his single shot side arm and offered it to Fintan. Using his left hand, the only one he could actually shoot a pistol with accurately, he took it. The highwayman aimed, shakily as the pain pulsed through his arm. He hesitated as the man drew nearer. Perhaps it was knowing the pain that was to come from the recoil, or the fear he would miss because of it, but Fintan missed. The shot flew wide of it's mark, the man's heart, and instead hit his right shoulder, barely skimming it. The two soldiers that still had loaded weapons fixed their bayonets and brought them to arms. The Rogrican stopped dead, only a few feet from either one. It was one thing to fight for the regain of honor, but to charge when you are beaten is suicide. Fintan, holding his arm glared at the man. "For what reason have you betrayed us?" "Betrayed you? We were never with you, usurping scum!" He did not flinch when the bayonets were put to his throat. "We are Royalists you fool! Is that why you charged us down? Did you pay no attention to the Master at Arms when he announced that Royalist patrols may be wearing Commonwealth uniforms to avoid detection? You have just charged the Lord Governor of Prechan!" Shouted the first musketeer. The Rogrican stepped back and dropped to his knees. "I offer my life in repayment of my inattentiveness." He pulled a dagger and offered it to Fintan. The governor turned it down, it was not Arelia's way to kill men for not paying attention. Whip them, maybe, but not kill. "I will not take your life, such a thing would only hider our cause." Fintan turned to walk back to the camp, he needed medical attention, or this would could turn very bad. "I shall not forget your mercy, Field Brother!" The Rogrican called. Back at the camp, Fintan was being bandaged up by one of the medics. "You are lucky to have gotten here so quickly...I think we have fixed any problems the wound could have caused. Refrain from using it too much...your arm should be fine." The medic said, patting Fintan's right shoulder. Fintan thanked him, and made his way to Keeva's tent, wondering when they were going to lay siege to Stromwall. |
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