Grancourt Family/Thyrdwulf Reflects
Contents
Thrydwulf Reflects
Thrydwulf had been quiet over the past few days. He had needed some time to clear his head. He had started to get angry and hot-headed regarding the undead, but now he had had time to reflect on the events that had occurred.
After the initial battle in Heen, his sister-in-law had been captured by the undead army, and almost all the militia units had been wiped out. Things were getting personal, and the undead continued to gloat over their victories, Hannibal especially had been attempting to cause friction between the nobles of Heen, yet he had only made their unity stronger.
Arch Nemesis
Maldiciones had been spotted during the night after the assault still attempting to reach the walls of the city after missing the first attack and Thrydwulf had told the army that the undead were cornered now. They had to stay and fight. As the dawn broke, the monsters were sent in first followed closely by the Heenite infantry, lead by a Celtic charge and covered by their supreme archers. Thrydwulf sounded his horn desert horn and began the charge. As the monsters clashed with the massive hordes of undead - outnumbered, but definitely not outmatched - the Heenite infantry joined the fray. Arrows of pain rained down on the undead, stopping a few in their tracks but not many. Mere seconds after the foot soldiers had caught up with the beasts, Thrydwulf and his fellow cavalrymen rode into the mass of undead bodies. With the undead disrupted and on the back foot there was only one thing on Thrydwulfs mind.
Scanning the mass of undead bodies he slashed to his right with a short sword - amputating the arm of a zombie about to strike down on Erin. Galloping forward he thrust his lance straight through the ribcage of a particularly disgusting looking skeleton and continued his run. Swerving to the left, he pulled on the reigns of his battle camel. From the back of one of the large undead hordes he saw his target. Barking out orders, the being still wore a generals uniform, pins and badges galore - yet commanding an infantry unit from the back? "I always knew you were a coward Hannibal" he thought and kicked his heels hard, leaning forward and whispering to his steed to charge the back of the group.
Holding his lance steady in his left hand he cut into another undead body before his camel reached Hannibal. His eyes never left his target, waiting for Hannibal to turn and face him. But the enemy general was clever. He HAD seen Thrydwulf adancing, all alone without the rest of his unit, and he knew Thrydwulf was coming for him. At the last minute he dodged to the side and slashed at the camels front feet bringing the animal crashing to the ground. Thrydwulf was thrown off, dislocating his arm as the lance broke in the ground. Ignoring the pain, he rolled to the side and swept his feet around him to stand up. Hannibal was already approaching, but Thrydwulf was ready. He was not a proficient swordsman, but he knew how to wield the blade. Feinting right - exposing his dislocated arm, Hannibal lunged towards him, taking the bait. As Hannibals blade pierced Thrydwulfs dangling arm, he had committed his body, just as Thrydwulf planned. Taking only a brief second to cry out in pain, anger and satisfaction he swung his sword arm across his body with all his strength.
As he fell backwards, clutching his arm and grimacing in agony he saw the enemy generals head rolling away from him as the body slumped to its knees and fell awkwardly on its side. Before he passed out from the pain, he looked up and saw Jadine fighting her way towards him as the battle raged on.
The Wounded Warrior
Thrydwulf could not remember much from the following day. He had remembered his large friend Fror paying him a visit, but couldn't remember the conversation, and had recalled Jadine coming to check on him at various times requesting confirmations of orders, but while the healers worked on his arm, Thrydwulf was in no state to command the armies. he was not even aware that the fighting was continuing or that the Heenite's had come so close each time.
During the following morning, he began to feel better. The dedicated team of healers had managed to pop his arm back into place and splint and stitch his cut muscles in his left arm, but he was still unable to fight. Asking around he found that 15 of his men were able, and sent messengers to recruit whatever cavalry there were in the centres around.
He was finally ready to fight again in the evening. This was to be the 5th battle inside the city walls, but still the Heenites and the monsters stayed strong. Help was on its way, with Vlaanderen units marching up from Reeds, it might have been a small band, but it brought hope. As he sat up on his new steed - his last one having been killed mercifully after Hannibal had so unsportingly cleaved its legs from its body he looked at his unit of 19 cavaliers.
The odds were against the allies this time, but they had to keep fighting. The undead were wearing down, Heen having slaughtered many zombies and skeletons in the previous battles, and news of Khthon approaching spurred them on.
It was to be a sad day however. As they charged again at the undead, as they had done so many times already, Drool and Hargresh were cut down by the enemy. The cavalry rushed in to provide some cover, but the enemy were too many. As the allies took many casualties and their units began to retreat from the battlefield, Thrydwulf saw 7 undead bodies closing in on a wounded monster. Hargresh gave a last brave effort to throw them off him, but it was to no avail. Thrydwulf turned away and galloped with what was left of his unit to regroup.
The New Heenites Fight
Heen were now severely outnumbered, and many of their nobles had been taken prisoner by the undead. Each battle wore them down, and the undead just kept resurrecting their fallen comrades. Still, they could not give up now.
Thrydwulf once more rallied the Heenite army, and stood in the streets of his beloved Capital looking out over his depleated army. Beside him stood a new noble to Heen, commanding a similar cavalry unit to himself. Melerion was patting his freshly acquired stallion, calming it down before the storm about to take place, whispering brave words to the strong beast. Infact, beside him stood many new nobles to this realm, having heard about Heen's plight and come to help them against the evil forces.
As his heart swelled with pride, he struggled to control his feelings. Taking his horn from his belt he blew hard and raising his lance in his heavily bandaged arm he shouted the orders to charge. The fearless monsters crashed into the undead ranks, outnumbered 2-1 even as the Heenite/Vlaanderen army rushed in to join them.
It was to no avail, and the undead again succeeded in driving the allied army from the streets.
The Ongoing Struggle
Thrydwulf had not been injured since his encounter with Hannibal, and since then: Hargresh had died, Maldiciones had been wounded, and far too many of his good friends had been captured or hurt. There was still no news of the unique items that Hannibal had dropped - Thrydwulf wished had had been able to take them from the body before passing out. Many adventurers had been seen roaming the battle-scarred streets of the once pristeen city, searching for the valuable armour the undead lord had been wearing. They had been offered plenty gold, but still nobody had found success.
While things had been getting steadily worse for the Heenite's, good news had reached their ears from Sint. They had managed to stop the TO of Jobos Mouth, capturing the Daimon lord Ethereal and were already heading to refit. The Heenite's really hope that Sint will now get a breather from the creatures from the netherworld that seem to find the North West of Beluaterra so enticing.
Khthon however had last been seen in Watto heading back to their own lands. But their help would be called for once more.
The Heenites despise the undead more than ever, in every way possible. Their foul stench, their lying tongues and their cocky leaders. There was no way they would agree to anything the undead asked and even laughed in the face of Dominus' silly requests.
The bravery of the Heenites has spread across the continent already. Plergoth who have felt obliged to dislike our desert people because of our involvement in their struggles against Khthon and Vlaanderen have even published an article commending our valiant courage. Even if Heen falls, it will definitely be remembered for its spirit.
However, Thrydwulf had his hands full, so did everyone else, and there was more fighting to be done - the undead oppression was not over by a long shot.
