Dagoriad Family/Ghalen/Sorcery in Mokut

Roleplay from Charles Mercer

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Charles's archers were front and center for the attack on the daimons, and thus took the brunt of the daimons' first fiery assault. The forces closed and clashed, and as the fighting raged at close quarters, a change came over Charles and he broke from his duty directing his archers. Sword drawn, he fell frenzied upon a downed daimon, pincushioned with arrows and possibly already dead. He crudely hacked and slashed at the body, a scratchy cry from his throat mostly drowned out by the roar of combat around him. He cast aside his sword and crouched on the daimon, clawing the wounds open wider with his hands, finally tearing an unidentifiable organ from the mess and holding it up over himself as it rained ichor down on his vacant skyward stare. He suddenly dropped the unholy meat and clutched his left arm as if in great pain before collapsing as his man Phillip reached him and pulled him away.

Charles Mercer (Royal of Mesh)

Roleplay from Yorick Sypher

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Yorick's arm was still unhealed. The healers were unable to do anything more for it so the arm hung limp from the elbow down. His armorer had fashioned a shield that he could use, but Yorick knew that sooner or later the Daimons would manage to kill him. Until that day came, he would strive to kill as many of them as he could.

Yorick Sypher (Minister of Defense of Mesh)

Roleplay from Terric Shadowbane

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For days the reports of Damions rampaging about in his lands came to him and he could do little to assist them. When finally the orders to move to Bajit came he was more than happy to march his archers along side everyone else. Once in Bajit he lined his unit, the 1st Ranger Platoon of Bajit in formation as per the orders given. "Men...today we will rain justice down upon the heads of this evil plague," He said as the human forces took to the field opposite the nightmarish like Damions. Pulling on his helmet, the Helm of Kings he turned to Damian, his master scribe and servant who handed him the Sacred Shield of the Dragonslayer. Nodding to Damian he ordered the man to retreat from the battle field. "Look upon the Damion and know fear. That just across the way is death itself and we WILL over come it," He said sternly, his eyes set in a fierce glare across the battle field. None of his men knew he had silently swore an oath of honor to make the Damions pay for taking Brighid's life. Today he knew would be the first of many battles in his quest for revenge. When the attack orders were yelled out he drew his sword and swung it through the air pointing it towards the Damion. "FIRE!" He yelled. His men let loose a volley of 30 arrows, one arrow per man which fell in with the other hundreds of arrows let loose by the archers on the field. Meanwhile cavalry and infantry begin their march forward through the archers ranks. "Incoming!" he heard someone yell from within the formation of human troops as a volley of arrows from the Damions scorched across the sky striking down several archers in one of the front line units. "Hold position, return fire.." he ordered as he noticed the onset of slight panic from a few of his men. He heard the sound of 30 arrows whistle over and past him and he nodded slightly. Carefully he watched the cloud of arrows sail over the infantry and cavalry that had pushed through the ranks of archers and he watched as yet another group of Damions fell; the left corner of his mouth curling up in something of a smirk. "That's almost it, one more volley men!" He shouted as once again the sky filled with arrows raining down on the Damion hoard charging full on into what was now assuredly their death. As this last volley of arrows struck their marks, he saw a banner belonging the "Masterless Men" being lead by Duke Karlos fly up at the very front of the field. While next to impossible to see from where he was on the field he knew from the sounds of the horns being blared a few moments later that Duke Karlos and his men had dealt the death blow to the what few Damions had survived the final down pour of death. Sheathing his sword he looked over to his men as they cheered. "Well done all of you. Now get back to camp...I have some business to tend to as Count of this region. I expect all of you to be ready to move out by the time I return this evening," His quickly saluted and begin to file off the battle field. He took one final look down field towards where the Damion hoard had taken the field and made a crude hand gesture from his days of being a freeman. "Until next time we meet in the field of battle, may this defeat torment your vile souls," he muttered then turned to head back to camp with his men.

Terric Shadowbane (Count of Bajit)

Roleplay from Kalidor Kye

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Kalidor stood nervously within the ranks of his men and those of the other nobles of Hetland and Mesh. Before him upon the field was a vast swath of evil come straight from the Netherworld. Even the proud young noble’s knees began to buckle as he waited for the killing to begin. He had no delusions that the human forces could prevail this day. When death rained down upon his men, well beyond a swords reach, Kalidor tried his best to rally his men, even as one after another fell to the Daimon’s strike. The Daimons ranged abilities where simply unimaginable. Rushing forward with the rest of the allied forces Kye’s Retribution did its best but it was simply not enough. Before long Kalidor’s entire unit was nearly destroyed, his few remaining soldiers scattered and his new Hetland banner lost among the dead. Perhaps the gods smiled upon the young noble this day for he yet lived while so many around him had died.

Kalidor Kye ((Knight of Dyomoque)

Roleplay from Regstav Pryde

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Regstav sat for a moment on his horse, just looking at the Daimon army that appeared to come from nowhere. Then he sighed and nodded. "So they come." "My lord?" Captain Hildebart asked, giving a long and nervous look towards the vast army. "These will not be as easily vanquished as those we faced in Bajit. These are commanded by great Daimon lords. They will be far more powerful in battle." "Yes, my lord," the captain whispered. "This time, they will not die before we run them down." "Yes, my lord." "This time our spears will prick them. This time our swords will bleed them. This time our shields will blunt their attacks." "This time, some of our own will die." "Yes, captain," Regstav answered. "This time, we will pay in blood." Then he raised his voice to his men. "Ride forth, men of Creasur! Ride forth, men of Hetland! Ride forth, men of Daishi! Ride forth and vanquish the enemies of mankind!" With that, Regstav, Marshal of the Arms of Creasur, Templar of Daishi, pulled the burning sword from his scabbard and raised it high into the air for all to see. "Vulcan! Guide my hand!" he shouted and kicked his horse into motion. He charged forward, his men streaming behind with banners unfurled behind his flaming sword, thundering towards the enemy as allied archers began to pour arrows into the enemy. The enemy of course unleashed their foul bolts in response, the ones he remembered from the last invasion, and he saw many fall long before the lines of infantry and cavalry could make it into battle. But for every man that fell, a dozen more marched or cantered on, and then, finally they crashed into the Daimons. Swords and spears splintered on demon hide, but the men of Mesh and Hetland fought on, taking them down one by one. Regstav cut the arm off one with the sword, cutting it cleanly, then came back to remove its head. And in that moment, he saw the men of Weghie pour over one of the Daimon lines and bury one of the Daimon lords beneath. Then a cry came up out of them that the Daimon lord was dead. Regstav smiled and charged towards another Daimon. "For Daishi!" he shouted as his tattered men followed his charge, even as he saw the ranks of Daimons beyond them. Even if they won here on this skirmish line, those beyond would finish them, but so be it. They could make the Daimons bleed. "For Death!" he called out and he and his men smashed into the Daimon, spears and swords flashing at it.

Regstav Pryde (Senator of Ypsilanti, Marshal of the Arms of Creasur)

Roleplay from Sir Ghalen Dagoriad

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The allied cohorts of men made their way through the moonlit night. High morale over the victory in Bajit had spread through their ranks like a raging river flowing through the thirsty land. The beauty of the full moon and the light of the hundreds of stars in the clear sky made a reflection on their steel: swords, spears, armors, shields... Suddenly, the sky darkens ominously, the moon disappears and the light of the stars diminishes. An evil grumble, only slightly resembling a voice, speaks up from above them: "Domis dian sheint calgaron..." In a second the men of the west quickly realize their folly and curse the light of the moon for revealing them, as the dark, belligerent abominations start descending from the sky all around them. Spells burst from their leaders, completely circled in a hellish fire, as they order their daimon slaves for a cruel charge. The peaceful night suddenly becomes an overture for a bloody battlefield, and under the rain of thousand flames the men make their stand. Heroes fall, banners burn, swords and spears shatter, and for the ones who live remains a tale of a heroic stand to tell.

Sir Ghalen Dagoriad (Marquis of Hoelorr)