Repository of Knowledge/Fallen Heroes/Death of Beatrice

Roleplay from Thrydwulf Grancourt

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Edmund was scared, Thrydwulf could tell. Infact, all the soldiers he could see were scared. They tried not to show it, but he could tell. Their eyes stared straight ahead towards the enemy, but just a little too glazed to be focussed properly. Their hands rested on their swords or bows, but fingers twitched constantly. Muscles were tense, and limbs shook silently, not enough to rustle any armour. For some reason, Thrydwulf wasn't. He had seen this before, he had seen the foulness, the unimagineable destruction this current enemy brought, and each time before he had been terrified. Of course, just like the others he had tried not to show it openly, but he was. Edmund turned to him: "It has begun" Thrydwulf nodded to his captain and began strapping his lance to his arm. It could be easily cut away once it had impaled its target, but he always found it more accurate if he strapped it. It was strapped to his left arm. It had always been a hassle that his left arm was more dominant, not least for his handwriting, which was appauling. Yet when people saw him command a horse, and joust even from the reverse side, they could not help but be impressed. His right arm had been trained in the sword, but badly. His horse carried a scabbard for a scmitar, a desert weapon, engraved with a rose to remember Martana. While his right arm was not as strong as his left, that blade had felled many enemies. Suddenly the sky above him turned black, and a volley of pitch black arrows landed among the Heenite army waiting behind the enormous walls of the city. Somehow the Daimon arrows managed to finish their arc always on the humans, no matter how far away they came from. Men and women shouted in pain as the arrows tore into them, cutting down many of the Heenites before they'd even seen a Daimon. Thrydwulf heard the North gates creak open and looked towards them. He wasn't aware they were charging but he saw two small groups of soldiers rush out of them. He was sure one of them was Beatrice. "Edmund, it is time." He stated, and quick as anything, Edmund and his 2 soldiers mounted their horses. They quickly followed the infantry rushing out of the North gates, but even of horses, starting from far back he could only watch as Beatrice and her soldiers were cut down by arrows. Somehow she had evaded the volley and had made it to the front Daimon unit. He had to get there. Squeezing his heels together harder he picked up scmitar in his right hand, and lowered his lance. It happened so quickly he did not even see Beatrice fall in the melee. His unit hit the Daimons so hard they were all knocked clean off their horses. The lance strapped to his left arm had stuck a Daimon, but nearly broken his arm if it hadn't been for the fact he'd catapulted out of his saddle, and landed scmitar down on the beast behind him. Wriggling free, Thrydwulf called to Edmund and the two loyal cavaliers with him, and dragged them back behind the walls to wait for the morning.

Thrydwulf Grancourt (Lord)

Roleplay from Thrydwulf Grancourt

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(ooc: this is Beatrice) It had been a terrible road to Latlan. Beatrice had only just about managed to forget about Watersdown by the time she arrived in Latlan, tired, aching and with a lot less men than she had left Tahgalez. The Daimons had beaten them in the capital, and then destroyed them in Watersdown, and taken one of Heen's most distinguished members. It seemed to be going from bad to worse. She heard no reports of other realms facing plights as bad as Heen's and it was still happening. There was little time to rest though, as reports came in from all directions that Daimons were approaching Latlan fast. The Daimons had no mercy, and were ridiculously hard to get to on the battlefield, let along kill. They stood cowardly at the back of the field, firing their magical arrows into the ranks of soldiers, killing them before any could get near. The Daimons were approaching, and the blood began to pound in her veins. All she could hear were the sounds of the men around her rustling, and suddenly the gates creaked, arrows flew just behind her, dropping tens of soldiers instantly. Their tactics enraged her, she had challenged Keeper to a duel already, and he had not replied. Fury swelled in her, and as soon as there was an opening in the gates, she charged through. Her men startled hurried to keep up. She ran with her sword held infront of her. There was one Daimon unit closer to the walls than the others, unfortunately she did not recognise their leader. Still it mattered, not. She intended to take as many Daimons with her as possible. The image of Wolfgang's torn corpse flashed again and again through her mind as she somehow managed to dodge her way through another volley of arrows. She was too far ahead of her captain and his two soldiers to see them pinned to the ground, each punctured by an impossible number of arrows. She wasn't sure how 300 Daimons could fire so many arrows at once, but she was lucky none of them struck her. She had made it to the Daimon horde before her, and despite her age she nimbly ducked under a huge Daimon arm as it swung towards her. She saw out of the corner of her eye another Heenite unit had made it to the Daimons, but she did not recognise the colours amidst the dark of the Daimons. Her sword still infront of her protecting her she dodged between Daimon clubs, swords, arms and headed towards the back of the unit where she would find the leader. Suddenly her legs were taken out from under her by a sweep from a Daimon foot. She managed to avoid injuring herself by rolling sideways, her sword arm held outwards and lithely sprung to her feet to be confronted by a huge brute. The Daimon laughed and swung a massive claw down, landing on the ground where mere seconds before Beatrice had been. She pirouetted to the side as the claw came down and danced around behind the Daimon, cutting a slash across it's shoulder and wing before coming to face it on the other side. It turned to face her with it's right arm hangling limp beside it. It only had time to begin to laugh once more before another blade appeared out of the front of it's neck. One of the other soldiers had made it. Beatrice immediately turned to her left and just managed to dodge a thrust from what looked like a broken bone as another Daimon rounded on her. She parried the second swing aimed for her head, gripped the bone with her hand, pulled towards her and thrust her blade straight into the black heart of the beast attacking her. Suddenly the world around her spun, and then began to fade to grey as a myriad of stars burst inside her head. As her knees crumpled to the ground, she looked down at the left side of her body to find a Daimon blade buried deep into her chest. Surprisingly it did not hurt, but as the grey world began to darken, images of Laurie sprang up in her head. She smiled, and knew she would be joining him soon. It was time, and although she had only managed to take one Daimon with her, it was something. It had to be something.

Thrydwulf Grancourt (Lord)