Thread: The Fifty Years' War (FFT RP)

Further back into the forest from the rest of the Knight's and apprentices was yet another pair of soldier's marching towards the meeting point. Two women, one older, well armed and girded with chainmail underneath a rather plain brown dress and green cape. The other was younger, a red haired woman armed with a simple work axe and a stylish but hardly protective leather outfit. They marched this whole way on foot and the young squire was quick to complain about the affaire. Ugh, seriously? They send me off without proper arms or armor and then they make us walk all the way out here by ourselves? My feet are killing me. A lighter pack makes the trip that much easier Grimhilt. Would you rather I have you carrying around all this heavy armor while we marched? Said Milleuda Folles, Grimhilt's mentor and sister to the White Knight Weigraf they were scheduled to meet. Grimhilt shrugged in response, If I actually got to use them in battle then I'd gladly take the burden but your deflecting my point Master. Do the generals really expect me to go into battle like this? As a drafted conscript your loyalty becomes partly in question. Likely chance you'll desert and sell equipment like mine. That is the official reason but the lines of caste between commoner and nobleman still remain in the ranks. Until you prove yourself you are still just serf to the lords. Prove yourself in battle and that will change, at least to your brothers and sisters in arms. Knight Folles said with a smile. The Nobles would rather a peasant like me die as fodder so the real Knights can take all the glory when the enemies sword arm is tired from me then? Grimhilt paused to reach for his waterskin, chugging down the last of what she had left to help her get through the long march. Knight Folles frowned, You need to have more confidence in yourself if you expect to get anywhere on the battlefield. You've been chosen for this opportunity for a reason. The squad your assigned to is made up of the most promising squires and chemists to come out of the academy. I have all the confidence I need Master, but is this squad made because of a recognition of our abilities or out of desperation? Emptying out the training academies and pressing new recruits into battle before their ready is an extreme strategy. 'All or Nothing' is what they call it. They taught you of strategy at the academy? No, my books did. A lesson learned via autodidact before I was drafted. Then let this be another lesson from me squire. Opportunity can always be found even in the most dire of circumstances and you should already know to never scoff at opportunity. You're a soldier, not a strategist. Think about what you can do rather then what others have done already. Before Grimhilt could respond, the two finally climbed the hill blocking their view of the Fortress of Besselat and the two instantly recognized the battle starting at the edge of it's walls. Looks like it's time to do some soldiering squire. With me! Knight Folles shouted before drawing her sword and charging into battle. Wha-? Grimhilt started in surprise but begrudgingly followed the orders of her superior, charging in behind her and drawing her axe. As they approached and the two sides in front of them met, Grimhilt observed the situation and she didn't like what she saw. The Archers were in a perfect position to tear apart their ranks and without proper ranged support this battle was better retreated from then fought but it would seem Knight Folles and the others had a different plan. Knight Folles saw what she did but also recognized the other fighters on their side and shouted orders to Grimhilt, Squire climb that wall! W-what?! Grimhilt asked before turning her view back to the wall and spotting a rope going about three quarters down the face of the wall with some very rough mortar work below it. Likely sloppily left behind when the enemy initially took this position. Seriously?! You're the one with the lighter gear! I've got your back squire just move! Folles shouted as she locked blades with an Ordallion knight. The loud clang of steel punctuating her orders. Damn it! Grimhilt said before rushing past her Knight in battle and the rest of the combatants along the way. Meeting the wall, she wedged the blade of her axe between the stones to give her extra leverage as she climbed. An axe was a working tool as much as it was a weapon and proved to have that advantage over a sword in this case. She climbed as fast as she could but the tall wall still gave her time to think about the situation. The strategy was sound, the archers and chemist had no squires or knights backing them up from what they could see but once she got up there it would still be 4 against one. As she mulled over this thought while reaching the rope a wave of fire blasted out from the top off the wall. Magic was something Grimhilt was very unfamiliar with and she hadn't taken it into account in her calculations. Still, she wasn't about to complain that her suicide mission just became more managable. Once she hoped the wall, Gimhilt took a moment to access the situation again. The Magi's display of fiery might proved effective but not all the archers were standing so close and the chemist had something prepared for a situation like this, covered in horrible burns but still clinging to life and in the red haired woman's way. Gripping her axe tightly she charged forward having just barely caught the two off guard. The archer reacted in time, moving forward to block the wild swing with her bow to protect the injured chemist. Grimhilt's chop snapped the bow in half but blunted her swing allowing the archer to retaliate by stabbing an arrow into her shoulder. Grimhilt cried out as she bled but continued her assault, wildly swinging and weaving through the archer's stabs until she caught the woman's arm, staggering her and letting Grimhilt bring her axe down into the woman's skull in a spray of blood. Overzealous, she continued to chop into the liveless corpse until the chemist had a chance to strike her in the leg with renewed strength after downing a healing potion, leaving a deep cut that almost toupled her to the floor. Grimhilt wasn't ready to give up yet and the chemist proved much less evasive then his friend he soon met on the floor. Her swing met the man's shoulder and tore him down before Grimhilt pulled back the heft and started chopping. Battered, bloody, but successful she staggered away and waved over the wall at her comrades before collapsing to catch her breathe.