Aline1: I'm surprised to meet someone who knows that Arthur had several sons besides Mordred. Note that at least one of them survived since the Duke of Brittany (house of Cournouailles 1066-1221) were descendants of King Arthur. Also, according to the Welsh Triads (orTrioedd Ynys Prydein in welsh), Arthur was also married three times, which explains why he had so many children.
Archangel Xireon Chaos God: I also think that some characters of the Fate saga are too used in FanFic, however, I don't think that Morgan is really one of the characters that are overused. I don't have PS4.
ATP: The title of general exists among the Greeks and Romans of antiquity. In Greek: Στρατηγός (stratigós), in Latin: dux (the name have donated "duke" in medieval English) or Imperator (general in chief). Gawain doesn't speak to (or about) Skavens... he only kills them... with a disgusted scowl on the face. Sewer's rats that speak... and in addition these things behave in a non-chevalier way... utterly repugnant!
Dan 1142000: Morgan... it is true that she is often considered purely evil. As if the beings were so simple. Of course, Arthurian characters are from legends, less realistic than real people. But is Morgan the Fay really evil?
From her point of view, she's only avenging her father killed by Uther Pendragon and avenging the virtue of her mother Igraine... For that matter, Uther fathered Arthur by pretending to be Duke Dumero (Morgan's father) thanks to the magical help of Merlin who gave him the appearance of the Duke of Kernow/ Cornwall. Morgan's revenge is... to create Mordred by impersonating Guenivere! There is a kind of poetic refinement in this revenge: "suffer what I have suffered".
Of course, we can say that Arthur did nothing to deserve such hatred. But he is the son of King Uther, Merlin is his advisor, he is sitting on the throne of Britain... in short, he is what most embodies the legacy of Uther.
No doubt the years that Morgan (a pagan, priestess of the deity Anna/Danna/Annu, goddess of the mother earth) spent exiled by Uther in a convent, surrounded by nuns seeking to convert her by force cemented Morgan's hatred and desire for revenge.
And everything I just wrote is as valid in Fate... minus the different gender of Artoria.
Author's note: For those who are surprised to see me write a sequel so quickly, it is a "birthday gift". I wrote the first chapter of Order ab Chaos in April 2020.
Those who only know the Norses by playing the Sega games should be surprised by the representation I make of them. But, in this case, Warhammer Total War has been very much denounced by the community of the strategy board game. Indeed, the Norses are not only the mad and half-naked servants of the Gods, or the "chosen" of Chaos in plate armor. The "Ragnar's wolves" and the "Shield Maiden" are two canonical units of the Norses, and are inspired by Viking culture, like huskarls. On the contrary, Sega marketed an extension giving the right to use the same units (at least for the most part) as the Chaos army as a distinct culture. It is certain that this DLC was a pure scam.
Pugna arborum quae ibi erant
(The fight of the Shrubs)
"There are a number of conflicting theories about the Norses. On the one hand, they are a people of merchants, who appreciate trading honorably with their neighbors. But on the other hand, they are very warlike; they are a race of fierce warriors, unscrupulous looters who extort gold and money from our coastal communities by getting paid not to sack them. The real reason for these apparent contradictions lies in the fact that the Norses, although they are very similar, are not part of a single people. They are divided into a multitude of different tribes and their state of mind varies greatly from one tribe to another. To apprehend the Norse soul, we must first understand who they are, where they come from and the fundamental motivation that drives them."
- Xavier Pfaff, Middenheim Historian
A new session of the restricted council was held in the New Palace. This time, several seats were empty. In fact, an army had left the city two days earlier. The objective was to block the road to a Norse raid that had entered the Vasteland from Bretonnia.
Artoria, Gawain, Kay, and Taliesin had taken the lead of the forces that had left Marienburg, and as Agravain was seldom in the palace, Sir Bedivere was the only Servant to stand near the Master, seated at the head of the white marble table. The only other two present were Lady de Roelef and the Patriarch Fooger.
Hakuno was listening to a messenger who was reporting. Tension was rising in the streets. In the absence of Artoria's charisma, it became difficult to keep calm. As the man saluted before leaving the room, Bedivere turned to the Sovereign of the Moon Cell:
"Would you like to put this question on the agenda?"
She nodded and Lancer quickly wrote a few lines on the sheet in front of him. Then turned to the other two councilors present to announce that the first item to be debated will be street demonstrations.
Arkat Fooger was the first to come forward, the old Dwarf began to speak in a firm, persuasive voice:
"I believe this city needs individuals who have no interests neither in either of the temples; a group truly impartial, outside the parties. I can create myself such a group. It could consist, for example, of mercenaries in my pay, which will lead Renakaat Fooger, my nephew and successor. If you think about it, it's an ideal solution. Lady Kishinami, you don't have the money to recruit a police force, at least until you collect the taxes. Thanks to my personal fortune, I can be in charge of financing the restoration of order in the city."
Hakuno thought for a few moments. Of course, it was a possible solution but... she blinked:
"In exchange?"
"I'll just ask you to refund my fees once the taxes are collected."
[Very reasonable] intervened the mental voice of Sir Bedivere [Master, but do not forget that Patriarch Fooger is not as neutral as he claims to be. First, the militiamen are led by his nephew, then they are paid by the Dwarves Miners of the Bitter Moors. Finally, the Fooger House militias are also known to support the interests of Lea Jan Cobbius, head of the Guild of Longshoremen and Cart Drivers. Which Guild is in conflict with both the association of the Boatmen of Marienburg and the High Elves of Elfsgemeente. In other words, making the Fooger militia the official police of Marienburg would formalize your support for one of the parties in the ongoing quarrel. ]
Hakuno stopped sighing and began to feel a migraine. There was never anything trivial about the issues dealt with by the council. Every decision had to be carefully considered and weighed. If only she could have complete confidence in her advisors. She looked up to face Arkat Fooger. She was not very good at understanding human body language (let alone Dwarves body language) but in recent weeks Sir Key had repeatedly proved to her that Patriarch Fooger had not joined the rank of her advisors to help Marienburg... quite the contrary. For Key, it was obvious that the old Dwarf was only using his current position to increase his influence... and that of the Dwarves.
Focusing on the Regalia, the young Teen brought up a virtual screen. As always, the Moon Cell kept a perfectly accurate account... and totally dispassionate... of the events.
The Guild of Longshoremen and Cart Drivers; the Association of the Boatmen; the Guild of Pilots and Sailors had been in conflict since the Marienburg War of Independence. The whole point of their confrontation was to obtain the greatest possible share of the river and maritime trade. The first ones unloaded the goods, stored them, and transported them both in town and throughout the Vasteland. The latter represented the ship-owners and owners of the cargoes. As for the latter, they defended their privilege to guide the ships in the port.
Over the years, the clashes had been discrete... or violent. The Guild of Longshoremen and Cart Drivers relied on the poor population of the docks and by financing, populist agitators could provoke at-will strikes and demonstrations. While the Association of the Boatmen or the Guild of Pilots and Sailors preferred to resort to the law, strikebreakers, or... the murders of opposing leaders.
Hakuno shook her head before turning to Clotilde de Roelef for advice. The representative of the aristocracy of Marienburg rose, passing a hand in her hair:
"In ancient times, there was a real police force that depended only on the Duke of Marienburg. It was a happy time for all and crime had disappeared from the streets of this city. Restore the old customs, that's what the people expect, for you to prove that you're the one running the city and no one else. The population is divided. You must unite her, Lady Kishinami, not take sides for one faction or another in a conflict that harms the city as a whole. If you wish, I can organize a new police force. We can recruit officers from the local nobility. They were educated for that, after all. The rank-and-file police will be able to be taken from the various militias of the guilds and neighborhoods, without favoring any but also integrate the survivors of the River Guard, the only Directorate police force not to have compromised itself in Slaanesh's manipulations."
Hakuno nodded and turned to Bedivere:
"I appoint Clotilde de Roelef to head the ducal police."
Patriarch Fooger was probably irritated, but he chose to congratulate his ally/ rival (depending on the days, the issues, or perhaps the direction of the wind) and focus on the following problem.
Having put his papers in order, Sir Bedivere drew up a file which came from the intelligence network which Sir Agravain was beginning to set up:
"Our agents in the Edge of the Words Mountains have brought good news. Skarsnik chief of the Nightgobelins tribe so-called "The Hook-shaped Moon" and self-proclaimed warlord of the dwarf citadel of Karak at the Eight Peaks was defeated by the dwarf king Belegar Ironhammer who regained his ancestral home on behalf of the Angrund clan. Usurper Skarsnik is supposed to be dead... "
The choice of the Inheritor of the Moon proved wise and quickly followed by positive effects. First, the ducal police quickly organized by Lady de Roelef proved effective, bringing calm after the first weeks of unrest.
Ten days after taking office, the riots and demonstrations had almost completely disappeared and the popularity curve of the pretender to the ducal crown had ceased to fall, only to rise timidly.
Paying this new police force was possible by seizing some of the property of the Directors killed in Hearthbreaker's attack.
While Hakuno was busy signing the new laws promulgated by the Stadsraad, a discreet knock was made on the door that the servants usually used to enter the old office of the Staadholder.
Unsurprisingly, Sir Agravain slipped into the room like a shadow. He bowed with stiffness:
"Kishinami."
Unlike many Masters who took the term "Servant" to the first degree, Hakuno Kishinami considered the Heroic Spirits she invoked as partners... or even friends. The hostility of Agravain may have troubled her, but she was not one of those who forced legendary heroes to behave as obedient and respectful familiars. She replied with a nod of the head:
"Good evening, Sir Agravain."
The thin, pale face of the knight showed no reaction. Without dwelling on it, he entered the hearth of the matter:
"I identified the originator behind the agitators. This is a High Elf that I followed in Astralized form to the Ulliogtha clan house in the Elf Quarter."
Bedivere- who was tending a decree concerning fishing in the Reikr so that Hakuno would sign it- stopped for a moment before speaking with a thoughtful voice:
"I suppose the Exarch must be directly involved since he belongs to this clan."
"Certainly, but we can't prove it, nor even make an official investigation because of the extraterritoriality status of Elfsgemeente."
By a tacit agreement, Sir Bedivere continued the conversation... Agravain preferring by far to speak to him:
"And what action have you taken, Sir Agravain?"
"I will go to Lady de Roelef to inform her of my findings. I have already informed Selar."
In spite of his great control over himself, the knight in black armor could not completely hide a disgusted grin. And Bedivere could understand that. Not only had Agravain been summoned by a woman, but he had been summoned for a task requiring collaboration with the local police chief... a woman as well. To add insult to injury, he had to resort to informants and agents recruited from the slums of Marienburg. Now, the leader of the local mob was an elf woman named Selar...
Life in Marienburg was hard for the misogynists!
Dawn lit up the castle of Neugen.
It was sad and cold dawn. The winter landscape was filled with a thick grey mist that drowned the forest of the dark trees. Ravens turned in the sky, croaking, and the wind made creak the large iron cages containing the skeletons of the highwaymen executed at the crossroads.
The sun shone faintly and its pale rays hardly pierced the mists.
With both hands on her greatsword inlaid with gold, Artoria Pendragon stood stoically on top of a hill. Behind her, the yellow flags adorned with the mermaid of Marienburg moved weakly at the top of the banners.
The rumors of a large troupe reached her ears: Nervous discussions of men waiting for the beginning of their first battle, movements of soldiers gaining their place, orders of officers, clicking of harnesses, horses neighing.
She had heard it so often...
But the look of the legendary King Arthur never left the enemies' campfires in the grey mist below.
With 1,700 men, she was going to have to stop almost 4,000. Not really the most favorable balance of power...
Fortunately, her position was strategic and most defendable. Situated in the northwest of the Vasteland, Neugen Castle was at the top of a ridge overlooking the road leading to Marienburg. From this position, one could see - on a clear day- up to the hills forming the Bretonnia's border.
Advised by her Master and especially by Bedivere (Tactic Skill C rank) Artoria Pendragon had positioned her troops on the flank of the slope. In the front row, you could see the Bretonnian spearmen-at-arms. Behind, at the top of the escarpment, the militia crossbowmen held shoulder to shoulder, benefiting from a wide arc of fire for their powerful weapons. They were the bulk of Marienburg's army... and the bulk of its strike force. Unfortunately...
Unfortunately, because the weather did not favor the defenders' force, indeed, the mist prevented seeing the Norses and the humidity relaxed the ropes of the crossbows, decreasing the power of the shots.
Sweat spares the blood.
Sir Bedivere liked this old saying very much. No doubt Vegetius knew it, he who pushed the Roman army of his time - that of the end of the Empire - to return to the use of fortifying himself in the bivouac "because a regularly built camp is like a mobile fortress that follows the soldier everywhere ".
He had no difficulty in convincing King Arthur of the necessity of waiting for the enemy in prepared positions. After all, the most famous victory of Artoria over the Saxons (Badon Hill, 518 A.D.) had already been obtained thanks to the fortifications erected by Bedivere.
Ahead of the position of the Marienburg's army, Bedivere (via Hakuno Kishinami) had sent half the soldiers armed with shovels, hoes, and baskets dig a twelve feet wide and nine feet deep ditch. The earth was thrown up the slope and packed up into a mound which was reinforced by stakes to stop the enemy charges. Screens made from wicker clays were then arranged at the ridge. So that the front ranks of defenders can take shelter from enemy fire.
At both ends of the ditch, Bedivere built true wooden forts, equipped with towers. The latter would be filled with crossbowmen during the battle. These forts should prevent the front line from being turned by the enemy.
The battle plan of Bedivere was partly inspired by that of the Optimates (Titus Labienus' army) at the battle Munda, but also by Caesar's arrangement against the Belgians during the Gallic Wars (1). The strong positions would help offset the enemy's blatant numerical advantage.
A black blackbird with a yellow bill suddenly landed in front of Artoria. The animal bowed down comically, sweeping the ground of one of its wings:
[My king, I managed to join the army of King Louen Leoncoeur. Our allies are only two hours away.]
Saber nodded:
"Thank you, Taliesin. Join your position!"
[Yes, my king!]
The metamorphosed druid took flight and flew towards a forest that stretched to the east of the hill occupied by the Marienburg army.
Artoria turned to watch the tight ranks of the defenders huddled on the side of the hill. Sir Gawain waited silently; he held out the reins of her mount at Artoria and rode in the saddle at the same time as she. A small cavalry joined them... fifteen knights in Gothic armor decorated with macabre motifs so common in the Sigmar Empire.
King Arthur brandishes Excalibur to the sky:
"Listen to me, I know what you think! This battle is not coming under very favorable auspices. Yes, there are twice as many enemies as we are. They are brutes who have learned to fight in their mother's womb. They ignore fear because they think that dying in battle will bring them to join their bloodthirsty gods in the Warp and that they will be able to spend the rest of eternity knowing the perverse pleasures promised to the followers of the gods of Chaos."
There was a loud murmur, and the soldiers were troubled, but the voice of Artoria became louder:
"However, we are not here to win this battle alone. Our Bretonnian allies are two hours away. I promise you that King Louen will help us before we are defeated. Moreover, we have an advantage that our enemy knows nothing about, a secret advantage that will be decisive. I'm asking you to trust me. I would never have agreed to fight if I didn't think we could win. I've never lost a battle, and I've already won fourteen big battles and a dozen smaller ones. Especially keep confidence in the arm that holds your sword. You have been trained to deal with such a situation. Defend your neighbor and he will back you up. Remember to fight as a group and coordinate your efforts. Individually your enemies are superior, so use your training to your advantage. Don't panic and everything will be fine!"
The peasants of Bretonnia and the bourgeois of Marienburg looked at the female knight with admiration. She seemed so small, so young... but already so many legends ran on this mysterious "King Arthur".
Her beauty was breathtaking. Her hairs were like golden powder capturing the scarlet rays of the rising sun. Capped in a mat her hair was wrapped in the back of the head and held in place by a blue ribbon. Her face was thin, oval, the mouth small, and the eyes were pure gemstone.
Like the rest of her, her armor seemed impossible. She was booted and spurred of steel, her hands - squeezing a magical sword wrapped in a golden light - disappeared under thick gauntlets. A plastron decorated with blue drawings protected her chest while a strange skirt of articulated metal blades shielded her flanks.
But the cold iron was worn on top of a regal dress blue embroidered with gold thread and a white petticoat.
They cheered King Arthur, their hearts beating wildly. They feared the battle to come and they feared the Norses... but at that moment, no soldier doubted that they would win.
This was the effect of her Charisma Skill (B rank).
The small cavalry gathered around Artoria and Sir Gawain stood back ready to intervene.
Surrounded by scouts and messengers, Sir Kay was in front of a map covered with tokens representing allied and enemy troops, ready to advise his Master and his king.
Alas, even though the battle had not yet begun, it was clear that the two armies fighting were not equal.
The only advantages of the Vasteland defenders were their dominant position and the ditch. Despite the training they had received in previous weeks, the Bretonnian spearmen-at-arms were not professional warriors. Most had only padded armors or studded leather with chapel-de-fer helmets, long shields, and spears.
As for the crossbowmen, they were not real fighters either, but ordinary militiamen very little trained and never having fought on a battlefield. We could not be certain that they would not give in to panic if the first line were to be broken.
From the hill, one could guess the invaders maneuvering in the fog. Soon the fierce Norses emerged from the damp mist. The mass of the infantry gathered in vast formations of shields against shields. Most of them had no armor except a horned helmet. With their shoulders covered with fur coats, they displayed a powerful and muscular torso, adorned with tattoos and steel jewels. The worst was that some had dried finger collars, mummified hand belts, or wore a skinny skull between the horns of their helmets. Their weapons were almost uniformly a short war axe.
They moved around banners often decorated with humans bones and remains. Most depicted a black hawk seeming to plunge towards the earth. Others showed divergent arrows of Chaos or tortured and colorful symbols not belonging to the human imagination, from some distorted worlds beyond recognition.
Among the Norses, we could distinguish some elite troops such as the Huskarls (the guard of a jarl) or the Shields Maiden (women warriors) wore coats of mail. While the Huskarls fought with a two-handed axe, the Maiden Shield preferred the spear, but they also had shields adorned with the divergent arrows of Chaos.
The cavalry was reduced to two units. The Marauders were equipped like the bulk of the infantry, but also carried throwing axes and javelins that they used to harass their enemies.
Grouped around the Jarl Ragnar the Red, the Ragnar's Wolfes formed the second cavalry unit. They had chainmail, shields and axes. It was certainly the most dangerous troop to fight today.
At least if we forget the mammoths of war who dominated with their imposing masses the tiny infantrymen running around them.
Saber counted four.
These pachyderms covered with thick fur were hunchbacked and distinctly larger than their cousins, the elephants. These animals reared for combat wore a basket decorated with human bones that welcomed warriors armed with jet axes and javelins. But their most terrible weapon was their huge tusks reinforced with steel barbells. Chains covered with spikes connected them, transforming them into formidable instruments of destruction capable of crushing the infantry like a scythe would cut the wheat.
Slowly, the invaders were approaching.
Even from the top of the hill, one could hear the war songs, the barbaric cries, and quite simply the footsteps of these thousands of combatants going up to the assault. They accompanied their marching song with the rhythmic beat of their axes on their shields. Someone who understood their language would have heard:
"Blood and souls for the Gods of Chaos."
"Blood and souls for the Dark Lords."
Scary...
From Marienburg, Hakuno Kishinami followed these moments before the battle through a virtual screen projected by the Regalia.
At her side, Sir Bedivere nodded:
"Now everything depends on Ragnar the Red's tactician abilities. He has the advantage of numbers and has widely deployed his forces to cover a greater perimeter than King Arthur on the hill."
He had taken the tone of a teacher lecturing... what he was, by the way. And even as the battle was about to begin, the opportunity seemed favorable to him for a new lesson. Blessed by an excellent memory, Hakuno recited what the knight had taught her:
"An army commander with numerical superiority must deploy his troops over a wide perimeter but with great care to keep a significant depth to his troops. This confronts his opponent with a choice between two bad alternatives. Either the opponent reduces the depth of his positions to deploy on the same perimeter which makes him more vulnerable to a frontal attack. Either it reduces its perimeter to reinforce the depth of its positions, making it vulnerable to envelopment on the wings."
Lancer nodded, allowing himself a faint smile:
"Yes, you have learned your lesson, Master. So what is Ragnar going to try to do?"
On the virtual screen, the Norse cavalry had positioned itself facing the left-wing of Artoria; Saber had followed the movement with her small troop of knights. Hakuno turned to Bedivere:
"Ragnar the Red wants to encircle Artoria without giving her the opportunity to back up and break the commitment. He aims to completely crush her army."
Bedivere bowed with one hand on his chest:
"Absolutely, Master. The enemy plan is simple but effective. Fortunately, my king has already understood the danger."
On the virtual screen, the Moon Cell had drawn a red line indicating the maximum distance at which the Marienburger crossbows could shoot. When the Norses crossed this invisible line, the young Sovereign focused on her connection to one of her Servants:
[ Berserker, start shooting!]
Sir Kay left the tent and ringed a war horn. The sound resonated above the silent ranks of the Marienburgers who watched nervously as the enemy hordes rose. Instantly, they activated, pointing their weapons... there was a series of deaf clasps as the bows released the short and nasty bolts that ran... falling on the assailants.
The shooters immobilized their crossbows, foot in the stirrup, holding the weapon vertically to activate on the cranequin and stretch his rigid bow. They fired.
One time...
Two times...
Three times...
The deadly bolts had dug voids in the ranks of the assailants. Dead and wounded lay on the ground, abandoned during the advance of the Norses. Many dead, but not enough. The enemy ranks were still solid and the losses did not threaten the success of the assault.
As the hordes of foot soldiers carrying horned helmets soared up the slope, some threw axe. Most of them put themselves in the wickers' trays protecting the positions or hit the shields of the Bretonnians... but some defenders fell wounded or dead.
The Jarl Ragnar the Red had gathered the bulk of his troops at both ends of the hill, his plan was clear, he would seek to turn the defensive line to encircle the Marienburgers. Despite the crossbowmen in the forts, he seemed to be on the verge of doing so.
Fortunately, Hakuno and Bedivere had a plan using the Noble Phantasm of one of the Servants:
[Now, Caster! ]
Taliesin straightened up. Pinching a rope from his harp, he began to sing...
"I went to Kaer Vevenir
where the trees and the grass flowed.
The musicians sang, the men of war marveled:
A resurrection of the Bretons
It was made by Gwyddyon (2).
We appealed to the Creator
And to Christ to judge the trial,
Until the Eternal
Wanted to help his creatures.
The Lord answered
Through the voice of the elements:
Take the shapes of trees,
Stand in line of battle,
Discard all those
Who are clumsy at hand-to-hand.
Câd Goddeu! (3)"
Around the legendary Welsh bard seventy men waited for the moment to leap into the fray. At the first word of the Câd Goddeu, they collapsed on their knees or twisted in pain as they underwent a frightening metamorphosis. They changed size, growing, as their skin turned into bark and their hair became leaves. Within a few minutes, each man had been transformed into a single tree, more or less large according to their age, their new appearance reflecting the true nature of each one. Some were now oaks or elms, poplars, ash trees, pine trees. Taliesin himself had taken the form of immense golden alder.
Guided by the shepherd of the trees, the metamorphosed men came out of the forest to participate in the battle.
The appearance of the animated trees was a shock to the Norses. Coming out of the forest, they attacked the left flank of the enemy army. From the first exchanges of blows, it was obvious that the fight was... unbalanced... completely unbalanced.
Taliesin, at the head of the assault, swept a dozen enemies with a simple gesture of the heavy branch replacing his arm. As a barbarian was stabbing him with the axe in the flank, he made only a ridiculous cut. Taliesin turned around and struck... the Norse tore himself off the ground and fell tens of meters further.
The other tree-men then threw themselves into the melee, they were less powerful than the druid, but each of them could easily get rid of three men at a time and only reap scratches.
It only took them a few minutes to get rid of a regiment of bloodthirsty Norses but already thousands of men were converging on them.
The fight had just begun.
Surrounded by several virtual screens, Hakuno Kishinami tried to keep control of all aspects of the battle. This would have been impossible for an ordinary man, but her mind worked like a computer. She was even able to see the mistakes made by a Servant and understand his fighting style by simply looking at him. Then following several dozen simultaneous events was far from being an ordeal for her.
The Sovereign of the Moon touched a screen to enlarge it and watched the waves of barbarians coming up the hill. Unfortunately for them Bedivere had not merely dug a ditch or raised protections for the defenders, he had also placed stakes in conical holes in front of the Marienburgers' positions.
The wild rush stopped pitifully as many Norses collapsed with their feet pierced!
The frontal assault fluctuated, on the right-wing the assailants faced the tree-men.
And on the other side?
Hakuno touched another screen that grew.
The Ragnar's Wolves skirted the fort at the end of the line of defense. Certainly, the crossbowmen were shooting at them, but they were not enough and their weapons were slow, they killed only a dozen men...
Fortunately, Artoria had anticipated the will of her Master, because she was used to tactic enough to understand where the outcome of the battle will be down. She was already at the head of her little cavalry.
In the eyes of the Norses, it must have been laughable. Fifteen knights against more than a hundred of them... it would soon be over.
They were right, but not the way they thought.
Artoria Pendragon and Sir Gawain charged at the head of the knights. Their sacred swords lighted up, golden light, solar flames, describing stunning arabesques. Around them the shields of the Norses broke into a thousand pieces, the warriors collapsed into pieces.
Nothing could resist their superhuman abilities to wield the sword and the power of their blades.
The Ragnar's Wolves persistently insisted on, losing more than half their strength, without killing more than three knights, and then they fled as quickly as they could.
Nevertheless, they were replaced by Marauders, even more numerous. They were armed with javelins and throwing axes. They came as close as they dared and launched their weapons to the knights, thinking they would stay safe at a distance. They were wrong.
The wind began to force, enveloping Excalibur. The sword became invisible, masked by layers of wind superimposed and compressed.
The throwing axes and the javelins collided with a wall of air that dispersed them.
Artoria held her invisible sword with two hands, directing her horse with the knees facing the stupefied enemies; the wind swirled ever faster around Excalibur, ever higher... forming a twister of twenty meters high.
She lowered the Sword of the Wind King, suddenly releasing all the power the sacred sword had accumulated:
"Strike Air: Hammer of the Wind King!"
The wind released by the blade formed a cone of air turning at full speed. The stones, the dust were thrown. The riders raised their arms, their horses whined... but the phenomenon quickly became too powerful, the men and their mounts collapsed, unable to stand, before being rolled for about ten meters by the furious winds.
Hakuno Kishinami nodded her head, here too the battle turned in favor of Marienburg.
[Little Mouse, we're going to need backup. Norses are threatening to kick us off the front line!]
Sir Kay's mental voice prompted the Inheritor to focus on the center of positions.
The Norses had eventually passed the pitfalls and they were now climbing the mound protecting the defenders. Aided by their advantageous position, the Bretonnian's Spearmen-at-Arms bravely defended themselves and had succeeded in repelling several attacks. Unfortunately, the number of assailants seemed infinite. Repelled, they returned to the attack more numerous and even more determined.
In the front row of the melee, Kay handled Mortemain with the strength that had given his sword its name (4). The burning blade sliced or burned any Norse who dared to attack the sector defended by the knight. Alas, Sir Kay was a unique specimen, it would have taken a dozen like him to defend the ditch, and even if he ran from one hot spot to another, the enemy was about to take the advantage. As he repelled the attack of a Maiden Shield he struck his shield with enough violence to break it, then cut off her head, two more of these angry women threw themselves at him. Since they had no magic weapons, they could not hurt him... but he was exhausted fighting so many adversaries.
There was suddenly a furious wind hiss and blurry shapes appeared... Kay smiled recognizing his foster sister.
Using the Mana Bust and the Barrier of the Wind King to accelerate her movement, she seemed to be in several places at once. Each of her opponents collapsed.
Artoria seemed to materialize next to her foster brother, who had tacked her movements... accustomed to this little trick that she often used.
Sir Gawain was panting... even a paragon of chivalry like him could be exhausted... after all he felt like fighting for hours and it was probably true!
However, he clenched his teeth, making a side leap to avoid a flood of acid that had just vomited a troll.
The creature was huge, with knotty limbs, a bloated belly and a stupid head with a big nose and big soft ears resembling cauliflower leaves. In addition, the skin was green covered with scales and warts. With one hand the monster wielded a primitive war hammer made of a big branch and a huge stone. His clothing was limited to a rotting fur loincloth and jewelry made of human bones.
The Knight of the Sun put Galatine under his arm and rushed forward.
Excalibur's sister sword immediately burst aflame, describing a multitude of attacks. The monster collapsed... cut into pieces that would not regenerate as they were burned. But other congeners of the deceased troll were already advancing. The Knight of the Sun skillfully avoided the slow attacks of the stupid creatures. Then, he planted his sword in the ground.
A magic circle formed under his feet... releasing a hurricane of solar fire that enveloped the degenerate monstrosities.
Ten Trolls collapsed, and they blackened and became heaps of burning coals.
But others still came, Sir Gawain killed three others but took a blow which made him retreat. He was not seriously injured but the bells seemed to ring under his skull.
Hakuno was already reacting, handling the Scabbard of the Sacred Sword:
"Code Cast: def_up (64)"
His protection strengthened, the knight thanked his Master and threw himself into battle with renewed determination, striking even harder. He would only rest when the last of these anthropophagous monsters perished.
In an explosion of broken wood what was to happen happened.
One of the war's mammoths overthrew the barricade defended by the spearmen-at-arms, projecting to the ground a dozen men that it tripped over.
Artoria Pendragon looked at the enormous pachyderm with a hard expression, understanding that their defense was about to collapse.
Stretching her sword back, she released the power of the wind to lower the resistance of the air and ran as fast as she could.
For an ordinary eye, it would have looked like an arrow of blue and silver light.
The next moment, the invisible sword was pressed into the mammoth's chest to the hilt. It would have been enough to instantly kill anything... except a living being of that size.
The prehistoric pachyderm trumpeted with pain and anger while struggling to pull out the sword that wounded it. But King Arthur held fast... her strength was immense. Concentrating, she uttered a long grave warcry.
An aura of gold enveloped her and... Excalibur became visible again for a moment.
A ray of light flew towards the sky.
Half of the mammoth's body collapsed, burned, and bordered by glowing bones. The rest was nothing but ashes that fell gently.
All around the battle had stopped. Allies and enemies looked at her with the same amazement... And, in return she looked calmly at them and spoke:
"I am a dragon in human form. My sword is my breath."
Then Artoria pointed her invisible sword at a group of Norses:
"Come to me if you want to die!"
The people of the North were courageous to the point of insanity, but... one of them ran away, then another. In a few moments, the stampede became widespread.
In the Old World, everyone knew that a great dragon could only be confronted by a hero of the power of Sigmar or Gilles the Breton.
On the side of the Bretonnians and the Marienburgers, cheers of delusional enthusiasm welcomed her victory.
Taliesin's tree body was covered with spears and axes. Most were not magical and he had not suffered any serious injuries. Around him, about fifty tree-men were still alive. But their little troop was surrounded by hundreds of enemy corpses.
Suddenly, almost carelessly, he crushed a barbarian warrior armed with a spear before projecting a cluster of opponents at a distance.
His attention was drawn towards the hills of the northwest.
The morning mists had dissipated, revealing...
A huge army, knights in armor, peasants in arms, archers, beautiful ladies riding unicorns. And in the sky swirling pegasus and griffins.
The blue and red banners were adorned with a golden lily.
King Louen had finally arrived!
Having finished putting his army in order of battle, Louen Leoncoeur raised his hand.
Immediately dozens of trumpets sounded the charge.
The Norses concentrated on Marienburg's army turned in amazement. They had only time to reform their shield wall as the first blessed stones thrown by the trebuchets fell into their ranks.
Spells followed, opening additional breaches. Then the knights charged.
Their silver spears radiating light broke the enemy's defense, throwing the Norses into the mud. When they took back the troops that were facing the tree-men, it was too much. The barbarians began to throw down their weapons and debase themselves.
Falling from the sky, the squadrons of pegasus and griffin riders harassed the mammoths on the run, pursued the discouraged army which thought only of escaping the trap which had closed on them.
With one thought, Hakuno Kishinami closed the screens that floated around her and then fell back into the big chair of the Staadholder. She closed her eyes as she sighed, but a smile appeared on her lips.
She had won another battle.
It was the fourth victory of the Bretonnia/Vasteland coalition since the beginning of the winter. During this time, the Norses had sent three armies to invade Bretonnia... If events continued to unfold as they had done up until then, they'd be back in a few weeks.
Her smile disappeared.
It had no end...
This war has no end.
It was an eternal hell!
(1) Munda is a decisive battle of the Roman Civil War Between Caesar and Pompey, it took place on Spanish soil, in 45 B.C. and ended with the difficult victory of Caesar. The Optimates had taken positions between a fort and their campCaesar from bypassing them. During the Battle of Axona, in the Gallic War, Caesar placed his troops on a hill behind a ditch.
(2) Welsh equivalent of Dagda (the god of the magic of Ireland) one may wonder at the syncretism of this poem where a pagan god and the Christ of the Christians are invoked simultaneously!
(3) The fight of the Shrubs in Welsh.
(4) The name of Sir Kay's sword is ironic. In French "Ne pas y aller de main morte" means " Don't take it easy ".