Post by The Smith on May 5, 2008 23:19:15 GMT -5
A twig snapped in the distance, then another, and another as birds fled from their perches in the trees above. Johan breathed slowly as he and his brother Steffon waited with a handful of men for the outlaw band they had been searching for to exit from the trees into the clearing. They had been searching for the brigands for days until they were finally tipped off as to their location from a farmer who was recently robbed. The rest of the group was weary, but not Johan as he dismounted from his horse and gave a signal for his horsemen to await his command. He wiped his eyes and looked up to the point of his halberd awaiting the moment he would finally be able to sink its hook end into one of the men who had been roaming the vast valleys and mountainsides robbing his people and being a disturbance to the tranquility of the land.
Finally the first of the band poked through the underbrush and he immediately paused to observe the statue of Johan before him, and his men behind ahorse. He looked to the badge upon his breast and noticed the burning tree of the Marbrands.
“Ahh.” The man sighed slowly as he held up his hand to signal the men who remained in the bushes. Johan could see that the men were not well armed, without much protection wearing basic leather clothing. Easy kills he thought. “Please spare us, we are just simple nomads in harmony with the land, we mean no harm”, the man contested. Johan stood still as an eerie calm descended on the scene, the wind blew slightly and the trees shifted slightly.
Johan finally called out, “Step forward so that I may see true the men who have plagued my lands.” And the brigands came forward, one after the other, more than Johan had been expecting, they slithered through the brushes. Slowly ten appeared, then fifteen, then twenty in total on foot, with 6 men ahorse, more than likely Johan thought, these would be their more skilled fighters, lastly several women with suckling babes trickled through.
As they began moving closer Johan put his hand behind his back to notify his men it was nearly time. “It is a shame such men and women as you were born upon this earth. But it brings me some pride to able to rid the lands of your pestilence.” Johan began walking forward to meet the group that was beginning to become apprehensive.
“You’re insane if you think you can take us on by yourself Marbrand, but then again, any man who kills their own father would be.” Johan stopped. “I do not plan to meet you alone fellow, and I assure you I am not the one who is crazed.” Johan slammed his pole arm into the ground and on cue his men pulled up their hidden bows, Steffon flicked a torch alight and lit each arrow in turn, and when all were ready, let loose a barrage of fire. The first batch of men had reached the line Steffon had drenched with lantern oil, and all the arrows landed squarely upon the designated area, instantly igniting the helpless men as they screamed for Gods or whatever lawless brigands prayed to.
The brigands horses began rearing in terror as men ran to and fro aflame, 2 men fell from their horses in a clump, one being impaled by his own sword, the other silenced underneath with a crunch as the weight of the horse collapsed upon him. Johan’s men trounced forward slowly and formed up behind him. The broken men began charging forward, led by the remaining horsemen. Johan crouched down and braced himself for the charge as he set his halberd to impale the horse but at the last moment the horse swerved, but the next continued on and met the point of Johan’s pole arm head on. It took all of Johan’s strength to hold his ground and twist the pole to turn the horse aside. Blood spurted forth from the front of the horse as it panicked and flung the rider off. Two more horses rode abreast, their riders threatening to lop off the Lord of Ashemark’s head off but Johan ducked, pivoted and swung the hook end of the halberd into the side of one of the riders as the other met steel with steel with one of his men. The hooked man fell from his horse and slammed into the ground as he frantically tried to remove the hook but bloodied his hands as the hook bit deeper and the blade was now where the hook and been. The outlaw gasped his final breath as Johan removed the hook.
He glanced over his shoulder to witness the carnage as his men had pushed forward and began the slaughter of the remaining brigands. Johan marched forward and lopped off the head of one unaware robber and as two noticed him and began to charge forward, he crouched down and swept his halberd along the ground the to stop the men dead in their tracks.
As the smoke was blown away by a gust of wind Johan saw the conclusion of the small skirmish. Several of the horses without riders were off in the distance grazing, completely forgetting the confusion and death moments passed. “It saddens me to have to kill horses that were once owned by our own people. But these last two should be returned to their rightful owners.” Johan was sweating from the exertion but showed no signs of tiredness, and his mail remained unsoiled by the blood of those he killed. His brother painted an opposite portrait, as he was soiled with mud and dirt from a fall off his horse and blood caked his face, mail shirt, and sword.
He gave a smirk to Johan and called out “what to do with these few prisoners brother.”
“Prisoners? No prisoners” replied Johan as he looked on the handful of remaining outlaws. “What of the women and their babes?” Steffon inquired. “You know how I do not like repeating myself brother.” Johan paused and pondered and looked at a boy in the hands of one of the women. “Take the boy, hang the rest in the tree over there, and show us your gift Steffon.” One of Johan’s men took the babe from the distraught mother’s arms as he watched the procession of the dead men walking. Each were hung so as to slowly suffocate them, giving them a hope they could wriggle free of the noose, and Johan heard them whimper and squeal and holler for mercy as Steffon poured the remaining liquid to take fire on the tree and immolate those who seemed to dance on the setting sky. Johan wondered how the ropes did not burn as the outlaws themselves did.
Finally the first of the band poked through the underbrush and he immediately paused to observe the statue of Johan before him, and his men behind ahorse. He looked to the badge upon his breast and noticed the burning tree of the Marbrands.
“Ahh.” The man sighed slowly as he held up his hand to signal the men who remained in the bushes. Johan could see that the men were not well armed, without much protection wearing basic leather clothing. Easy kills he thought. “Please spare us, we are just simple nomads in harmony with the land, we mean no harm”, the man contested. Johan stood still as an eerie calm descended on the scene, the wind blew slightly and the trees shifted slightly.
Johan finally called out, “Step forward so that I may see true the men who have plagued my lands.” And the brigands came forward, one after the other, more than Johan had been expecting, they slithered through the brushes. Slowly ten appeared, then fifteen, then twenty in total on foot, with 6 men ahorse, more than likely Johan thought, these would be their more skilled fighters, lastly several women with suckling babes trickled through.
As they began moving closer Johan put his hand behind his back to notify his men it was nearly time. “It is a shame such men and women as you were born upon this earth. But it brings me some pride to able to rid the lands of your pestilence.” Johan began walking forward to meet the group that was beginning to become apprehensive.
“You’re insane if you think you can take us on by yourself Marbrand, but then again, any man who kills their own father would be.” Johan stopped. “I do not plan to meet you alone fellow, and I assure you I am not the one who is crazed.” Johan slammed his pole arm into the ground and on cue his men pulled up their hidden bows, Steffon flicked a torch alight and lit each arrow in turn, and when all were ready, let loose a barrage of fire. The first batch of men had reached the line Steffon had drenched with lantern oil, and all the arrows landed squarely upon the designated area, instantly igniting the helpless men as they screamed for Gods or whatever lawless brigands prayed to.
The brigands horses began rearing in terror as men ran to and fro aflame, 2 men fell from their horses in a clump, one being impaled by his own sword, the other silenced underneath with a crunch as the weight of the horse collapsed upon him. Johan’s men trounced forward slowly and formed up behind him. The broken men began charging forward, led by the remaining horsemen. Johan crouched down and braced himself for the charge as he set his halberd to impale the horse but at the last moment the horse swerved, but the next continued on and met the point of Johan’s pole arm head on. It took all of Johan’s strength to hold his ground and twist the pole to turn the horse aside. Blood spurted forth from the front of the horse as it panicked and flung the rider off. Two more horses rode abreast, their riders threatening to lop off the Lord of Ashemark’s head off but Johan ducked, pivoted and swung the hook end of the halberd into the side of one of the riders as the other met steel with steel with one of his men. The hooked man fell from his horse and slammed into the ground as he frantically tried to remove the hook but bloodied his hands as the hook bit deeper and the blade was now where the hook and been. The outlaw gasped his final breath as Johan removed the hook.
He glanced over his shoulder to witness the carnage as his men had pushed forward and began the slaughter of the remaining brigands. Johan marched forward and lopped off the head of one unaware robber and as two noticed him and began to charge forward, he crouched down and swept his halberd along the ground the to stop the men dead in their tracks.
As the smoke was blown away by a gust of wind Johan saw the conclusion of the small skirmish. Several of the horses without riders were off in the distance grazing, completely forgetting the confusion and death moments passed. “It saddens me to have to kill horses that were once owned by our own people. But these last two should be returned to their rightful owners.” Johan was sweating from the exertion but showed no signs of tiredness, and his mail remained unsoiled by the blood of those he killed. His brother painted an opposite portrait, as he was soiled with mud and dirt from a fall off his horse and blood caked his face, mail shirt, and sword.
He gave a smirk to Johan and called out “what to do with these few prisoners brother.”
“Prisoners? No prisoners” replied Johan as he looked on the handful of remaining outlaws. “What of the women and their babes?” Steffon inquired. “You know how I do not like repeating myself brother.” Johan paused and pondered and looked at a boy in the hands of one of the women. “Take the boy, hang the rest in the tree over there, and show us your gift Steffon.” One of Johan’s men took the babe from the distraught mother’s arms as he watched the procession of the dead men walking. Each were hung so as to slowly suffocate them, giving them a hope they could wriggle free of the noose, and Johan heard them whimper and squeal and holler for mercy as Steffon poured the remaining liquid to take fire on the tree and immolate those who seemed to dance on the setting sky. Johan wondered how the ropes did not burn as the outlaws themselves did.