The Rohrmarch Campaign: The Fall of Prince Oden

[Raesene Andu]

Chapter 1 (The Battle of Friedlund)

The horns sounded the retreat as the Prince watched from the hill above. His forces had been successful in yet another battle and the weaker armies of King Alaric were now fleeing before him. Soon all of Friedlund would be his, and with the capture of the province he would be in a position to move on the southern capital of Kiedel itself.
Below him he could see the bodies of hundreds of soldiers, both his own and the enemy. This battle had been costly, but hopefully the war would soon be over and the rest of Rohrmarch his. Fifteen years of warfare were nearly at an end, and finally he would claim what was his by right of birth, the throne of Rohrmarch. Pieter Oden almost laughed as he watched the enemy forces fleeing like rabbits towards the forests to the south. With a wave of his hand he motioned towards the battle field and spurred his horse towards the lower ground.
The Royal Mounted Guards followed him, their purple cloaks flapping in the light breeze as they rode down the hillside towards the battlefield. Once they drew closer the where the fighting had raged the Prince's party could see the true damage the battle had caused. All around them now were the twisted bodies of men, both theirs and the enemy. Over three hundred soldiers now lay dead in the fields of Friedlund and an even larger number were wounded and would be out of the war until they were healed or recovered without the aid of the priests of Kirche. Already Kurt Warkinde's priests were among the men using their powers to close the wounds of those who would recover, and ease the suffering of the dying. The prince could see that there were too few priests and too many wounded though.
The prince rode past these men towards the stream that crossed the field. There at the ford the fighting had been most intense, and Alder the Prince's oldest son had lead the cavalry against the kings main infantry units. Spotting the familiar banner just across the stream the prince rode to greet his son.
"Alder," he called out.
His son turned around and waved to his father, motioning him to come over to where Alder and the other generals where gathered around a small group of prisoners. Riding up the Prince could see that three prisoners had been tied to one of the few remaining trees on this side of the stream.
The prisoners were a motley looking bunch, obviously not members of the nobility. Each was dressed similarly, in the uniform of King Alaric's Infantry. Standing in front of the prisoners was a small group of men, including Prince Alder, General Otto Osternord, and the priest of Kirche, Kurt Warkinde. It was to the priest that the prisoners were talking, treating him more like a lost friend, than their enemies chief religious advisor. The Prince smiled grimly, obviously Kurt's magics was being put to good use.
"Greeting father," said Alder. "It is good that you are here, it seems these prisoners may have information that you might find interested."
Prince Oden dismounted from his horse and walked over the where his generals and the priest were interrogating the prisoners.
"And the King said that we would soon be getting reinforcements," the enemy soldier was saying. "We were supposed to leave from here and go to Edel where we were to combine the armies for a strike on Werthangen."
"What do you think father," ask Alder.
"He could be telling the truth, it sounds just like something Alaric would do moving against a lightly defended province while our main army were attempting to take the rest of Friedlund."
"Or he could be a spy planted to make us think that way," said General Osternord with a frown. "That is something that Alaric has tried before. You remember the battle of Faustgaan three years ago, he planted that noble, Luther Strient, who told us that Alaric was about to attack Rohrgaard. So we moved all our troops into the capital only to have King Alaric turn his forces around and take back Edel. We still haven't recovered from that loss."
"Nonsense," said the Prince. "Our forces have never been better, you saw how they crushed the enemy today. I say we strike against the enemy capital now while our armies are still fresh and his are injured and on the run. With any luck our forces can be camped around the capital before the week is out. Losing Werthangen is not important if we take Nunkappel and the fortress at Keidel. With his capital in our clutches Alaric will have no choice but to surrender and the victory will be ours."
"But my lord what if Alaric and his entire army is in Keidel, instead of Edel, then we would be up against a force equal to our own, and they would have the protection of the walls of the city and the castle itself."
"Hah, how many soldiers can he have left. He lost at least two hundred here today and close to a hundred at the battle last week when we first moved into this province. Even if he combined all his forces in Kiedel we would still out number him by maybe three hundred."
"More if we bring in the troops from Rohrgaard father," spoke up Alder. "If we stripped Rohrgaard of the armies protecting it and bought them south then we would have a force capable of destroying anything Alaric could throw against up. Also we could bring in the artillery from Osternord and use them in the battle."
"It will take time though my lord," said the General as he climbed down back up onto the saddle of his horse. "If we wait for all these troops we will be vulnerable if Alaric decides to move his entire army north, back into Friedlund. I might remind you that Alaric still has over one and a half thousand soldiers left at the very least, while we have but a thousand here and another thousand in the north. If we wait here and Alaric attacks with all his forces we will lose the gains we have made this day. I suggest moving into Edel, just in case Alaric is there, while moving the Rohrgaard army into this province in case Alaric tries to take it back. They could fortify the city and then Alaric would never retake the province."
Prince Oden looked around at his advisors for a minute, then turn to the priest. "And what says you Kurt, have you no words of wisdom to offer us".
"My Prince, I am but a humble servant of Kirche not a skilled warrior like your son or the general here."
"That rubbish Kurt, you have been fighting as long as Otto here, and much longer than either me or my son. Come now what ideas to you have to assist us."
Kurt Warkinde smiled at that, and slowly got to his feet and left the side to the prisoners to stand next to his prince. "I agree with you my lord, if at all possible we must strike against Alaric now, crush his armies before he has a chance to regroup. My sources in the capital say that he has far too few soldiers left to successful defend it and if we strike we may take it quickly before he can muster and train new troops in Kiedel. But we must move quickly if we are to do this. For if we wait the we will fail."
"Then it is decided," the Prince said with a grin. "Alder you will go to Rohrgaard and gather as many soldiers as you can and then come back here to Friedlund. Next you will bring the infantry and Artillery from Osternord south as well in case they are needed. While you are doing this the rest of the army will head south and take Kiedel from that fool Alaric. With any luck the war will be over by winter and we can spend the Eve of the Dead in the Kiedel fortress. Now let us be off before the enemy has time to stop running and start picking up their swords again. Kurt, Otto, you are with me."
With that final remark Pieter Oden leapt into the saddle of his horse and spurred it towards the camp where the rest of the men were based. Otto von Osternord and Kurt Warkinde followed suit, but not before the priest stopped and said a few words to one of the guards standing near this prisoners. The guard nodded and as the trio rode off he pulled out his dagger and slit the throats of the three prisoners. Alder Oden watched the now dead prisoners slowly slide to the ground before he too mounted his horse and rode off towards the camp, his five personal guards in tow. As he rode he could see the army being gathered up by their commanders and being prepared to march south. Men were groaning at the thought of a long march after a hard battle and he hoped his father had the sense to give them some rest before fighting Alaric's army or they would fail because the men would be too tired to hold their weapons. But Alder knew that his father was no fool and he would ensure that his army was ready before attacking Keidel.
As Alder passed the camp the shadows of the coming night drew ever closer and he could almost see the spirits of the dead walking the battle field that he was now riding through. A faint mist also was spreading across the field. Although common enough in Rohrmarch this night it brought a feeling of dread to the young prince and the soldiers in the camp. It was on night like this the legends said that the dead walked the earth and the creatures of shadow crept out from the other world to claim the souls of the living. Alder didn't believe all of the stories, but he still drew his cloak tighter around him as he rode on into the night.

As darkness fell across Cerilia something was stirring. It may not have been a creature of the Shadow world but this monster was even more feared and deadly than a skeleton, or ghost. Price Raesene, known to others as the Gorgon watched the sun slowly dipping towards the western horizon. To the west the Gorgon could see the fires of one of the twin volcanos that stood on either side of Kal-Saitharak, the fortress known as Battlewaite by the Anuireans. As the sun set he watch the fires grow brighter until the reddish light they cast lit up the fortress.
It was said that Kal-Saitharak was never truly in darkness and this night that statement was certainly correct. The western volcano was erupting again with rivers of fire slowly snaking their way down the side of the mountain. The Gorgon noted this and more as he watched from the throne room of his fortress. But where others might be worried he was only concerned that the lava may damage the roads leading away from Kal-Saitharak to the south. He knew that the fires could never damage the fortress, although it might be amusing to watch his subjects burning in the flame. Soon he grew tired of watching the lava and returned to his throne, a massive iron structure crafted to support his eight foot tall stony skinned body. Lowering himself onto the throne he sat and watch his latest generals fighting amongst themselves over who was to have the honour of meeting with him first.
"Pathetic fools the lot of them," he thought. "Still at least this bunch were better than the last lot. I wonder if they will make as amusing sounds when I finally get tired of their petty squabbling and throw them out the window of the throne room."
As he watched the two massive doors leading into the throne room slowly opened and a young woman dressed in a long black robe entered. Clutched in her hands were a large number of scrolls and books. She moved quickly to the Gorgon's throne she knelt before him and prostrated herself on the floor. The Gorgon turned a looked at her with a bored indifference, noting the papers she was clutching in her hands. With a sigh he motioned for her to rise. "It is not that time of year again is it Hand."
"Yes my Prince, the latest figures have been sent in from the outer provinces. All we need is your decisions."
The Gorgon took the scroll from her hands and slowly looked over the long lines of figures written tiny, neat script. "These look rather high this year."
"Yes lord Raesene the Goblins have been bored and a bored Goblin always seems to breed much faster than a busy Goblin."
"So we have a rather large increase in the Goblin and Orog population this year, can we still feed them all."
"No my lord, even with the fishing fleet in Kiergard adding to our resources we can not feed the increasing population in Markazor or even the Crown itself. I would suggest a culling may be called for."
The Gorgon smiled. "Yes it has been some time since we sent the rabble out to fight, perhaps it is now that time again. I must admit that even I have grown bored here in Kal-Saitharak with nothing to do but watch my generals fight each other. I think it is time that they began fighting someone else instead. The only question who shall it be this time."
"Perhaps we should let the generals decide this time Raesene, it would make them appear more important in their eyes and perhaps make them fight all the harder."
"Not too hard though Hand, we are trying to kill off as many troops as possible, not create more problems by taking even more territory. Until we have finished the northern expansion we can not afford to take more worthless land under my banner."
"Of course not my Lord, shall I summon the generals?"
"Very well, tell them to come to the war room, I will meet with them there."
With that the Gorgon rose from his throne and tossed aside the parchment he had been reading before striding out of the chamber towards the lower floors and the massive war room of Kal-Saitharak.
It took almost an hour to round up all the Generals, Lieutenants, and Chieftains that served as the Gorgon's advisory council but eventually they were all seated around the central table in the War Room. The table was in fact a giant replica of Cerilia showing the mountains, deserts, rivers and cities of the continent. It was at this map the Gorgon and his servants were looking.
"I suggest an attack on the Elves of Tuarhievel my Lord." one of the Orog chief was saying. "With a quick strike into the heart of their forests we can all be roasting Elf ears over the fire before winter is on us."
"No, No, I disagree we should attack Mhoried and crush the Anuireans. They can not hope to stand against our combined armies."
The comments of the Goblin chief Jarn the Mighty soon led to a fight between the Orogs and Goblins over which suggestion was the better and shortly after both sides had drawn weapons and a battle had begun.
The Gorgon ignored all of this watching instead his three top advisors sitting together on the far side of the table. All three seemed to be pointing towards the south, far away from either Mhoried or Tuarhievel. As soon as the discussions were complete the Dwarven General Kiras Earthcore picked up a pile of papers and walked with the others to the Gorgon's side.
"I believe that we have come up with a suitable target Lord Raesene." said Kiras pointing on the map to a point south of Kiergard. "The humans there are busy fighting each other at the moment, and if we strike when they are most vulnerable we will soon take control of much of their kingdom."
"I also have a suggest to offer Lord," spoke up Baruk One-Eye the new head of the Elite Guard. "Forge a treaty with the new head of the Chimaeron, or the Iron Hills as it is called now. I sure you will have no difficulty convincing that money grabbing little fool to allow your troops onto his lands. Then when we attack we can move all the way south to this province here, I believe it is called Mhowe and take all of the lands from the Crown to the southern seas."
"Thus we would soon have a fleet at the gates of Anuire itself, good thinking Baruk."
With that the Gorgon had made his decision and rose to his feet. At once the fights still going on between his general ceased as they waited for their master to speak.
"I have made my decision, in a months time we march for Rohrmarch, may all who stand before us perish in fire. Generals you are all to return to your tribes and gather together as many warriors as you can find. I want half of my entire army gathered at the Fellport in by the end of this month."
The Generals quickly gathered up their weapons, shields, and dead comrades and left the war room. After they had gone the Gorgon turned to the Hand of Azari, the most loyal of his servants.
"I want you, Hand to send a message south to the Chimaeron. Invite this fool el-Hadid north to visit us. Offer him what ever you think will make him come, maybe control over all the guilds in my realm. That should be enough to entice him out of his tower. Kiras I want you to gather together a force of loyal soldiers who are to travel to the Iron Hills and be ready for the signal to attack. Make sure you only select the most loyal of your Dwarves. I don't want my army deserting to the enemy like last time."
"Yes great Prince." shouted Kiras and the Hand together before marching out of the War Room together. The Gorgon turned to the last of his advisors still in the room.
"Baruk I have a special job for you."
"Anything my lord."
"Good, I want you to go to Kiergard ahead of the others. I have arranged for you to take command of a new army I have been working on for some time."
"A new army my Lord, what kind of new army."
"You will see," the Gorgon said with a savage grin. "Now go, I have much to think about."
Baruk bowed deeply and spun around, marching out of the room.
With all of his servants now gone the Gorgon sat once more in his massive chair and slowly examined the edge of his mighty sword, Lifender.
"Soon old friend, soon once more you will taste the blood of the petty fools who think they rule these lands. Yes soon, very soon now."

[Raesene Andu]

Chapter 2 (On the road to Kiedel)

Winter had not yet arrived, but already Pieter Oden and his men felt the cold as they travelled south as fast as they could towards the southern Rohrmarch capital of Kiedel. Behind the prince a long line of tired soldiers marched, carrying their heavy packs and weapons as they walked. A storm had blown in off the Suidemiere two nights ago and the soldiers had been forced to seek what shelter was available in the scattered woodlands of southern Friedlund. Fortunately for the army though the storm only lasted the one night, unlike many of the early winter storms that could rage over Rohrmarch for several days.
Finally just inside the border of Nunkappel province the prince called a halt to the hurried march. Men in the convoy sighed in relief as they lowered their heavy packs and weapons to the ground. For the next several hours the deserted farmland was a hive of activity as tents were raised and patrols organized. Prince Oden rode a little ahead of his men towards a small hill that rose out of the fields. It was the only land in the area that was higher than the scattered farmhouses that dotted the landscape so it provided the best view over the lands further south.
Kurt Warkinde and General Osternord were already positioned on the top of the hill speaking with a captain of the Prince Army.
"What occurs General," shouted the prince.
The general turned a shouted back to Pieter. "Our scouts have spotted an enemy army camped south of us my lord."
"Wait there I'll come up and have a look."
The prince then dismounted and strode up the hill, a small group of royal guards following his every move as usual.
"So, where are these Alaric scum hiding then." said Pieter after quickly reaching the summit of the small hill.
General Osternord pointed southward towards a a dark patch on the horizon. "There my lord, they have made camp for the night outside the village of Biedenkoft. Captain Darold here reports that there may be as many as six or seven hundred soldiers, mainly lightly armoured cavalry. We have yet to discover who is leading them but Darold believes that these could be the men that Prince Siegfried was leading at the battle of Wendel Bridge last month. We defeated the prince there but he only had three hundred cavalry with him then, these are likely the remnant of that army plus new reinforcements from Alklund, or Edel."
"Does this mean that Alaric has moved his troops south from Edel like Alder said." queried Pieter.
"Not necessarily, it may simply mean that Alaric had more forces than we originally thought. We should still be able to crush both this army and any other he has waiting at Keidel though. It looks as though they are waiting for us on the fields outside the village, an open challenge. Perhaps they wish to test the strength of our armies or maybe they are waiting to spring some sort of trap on us. None of our scouts have managed to spot any other troops in the area though and apart from a few strands of trees outside the village the countryside is clear. Even the villages have fled, probably making for Kiedel, I hear that Alaric has offered safe haven in the city for anyone who wishes to seek refuge there."
"Just one question, Alaric doesn't have any mages working for him does he?"
"Not that I know of my lord, why do you ask?"
"Well you mentioned trees, I have heard of a trick employed in Anuire by a mage once. He cast a spell that made his troops appear to be little more than a strand of trees. The enemy soldiers even walked through the woods without noticing that they were actually transformed soldiers. Then once they had past the wizard cancelled the spell and had his soldiers attack from behind killing many of the enemy. But as Alaric doesn't have a mage capable of casting that sort of powerful spell working for him I think we can discount that possibility. Captain Darold did your men check out the woods."
"Yes my prince, there is nothing hiding in those woods, I would stake my life on it."
"Good because at the battle tomorrow I want your men stationed in the trees, take the few archers we have with you. Before the sun has risen tomorrow I want your men well hidden. Sleep in the trees if you have to, but you must not be seen. Go now get started. By the time I get back to camp I want you and your men gone. Wait until dark before moving south to the woods though."
"Yes noble prince, I will leave immediately."
The young captain turned back to camp and ran towards the tents where his men were camped. Pieter Oden and his two chief advisors watched the hurried preparation below as the scouts and archers packed up their tents and prepared to move off the road towards the small woodlands to the south. Finally as the last of the captain's small force was leaving General Osternord turned to the prince and said, "Ok, I give up what do you want our only archers in the forests for."
The prince smiled. "You will see Otto, you will see. I only hope the young captain doesn't give away his position to early. Come let us dine in my tent and discuss your plans for the battle tomorrow."
"You think Siegfried will stay and fight then."
"Yes, I think he will. I suspect his troops are here to slow us down or wound us so badly that we will be forced to turn back before we can attack Kiedel. Alaric must be worried about losing the city to risk his son falling in battle."
"I agree my prince," spoke up Kurt Warkinde who until that moment had stood quietly watching the sun setting in the distance. "It is likely that King Alaric is attempting to slow us down here long enough to bring in his main army which is stuck in Edel province. He must know that if we break through and move against Kiedel before he can reinforce his positions we stand a good chance of taking the capital and with Alder bringing the Rohrgaard army south into Friedlund his only remaining army will be virtually trapped in Edel."
"Which is the reason we embarked on this campaign in the first place if you remember." said the general. "If we win the battle tomorrow the war will be over and we will have won. Alaric will have no choice but to surrender his realm to you, my prince."
"Then we will have to see that we win tomorrow, won't we." the prince said with a smile. "Anyway let us be off this cold and damp hill. I have a fine bottle of Sendoure wine in my tent, let us discuss tactics over a glass of good wine and a meal than out here where we are exposed to any enemy spies that might happen by."
"Good Idea my lord, Kirche knows that a fine wine is good for the soul." said Kurt.
"Well then let us go, sergeant to the command tent." Pieter called to the head of the royal guard who stood a respectable distance away.

Much later that night Captain Darold found himself perched in the branches of a large Coulladaraight Oak trying desperately to manoeuvre his body into a position where he could at least get some sleep before morning. In the other trees around him and under some thick bushes near the edge of the small woods the rest of his men rested, either asleep or on guard. Darold looked around. It seemed that he was the only one who was not already asleep.
"Typical, " he thought. "If only I had become a minstrel like my father, then I wouldn't have to be stuck up this tree with some sort of furry animal scratching the bark and keeping me awake."
He pulled out his short sword and banged the branch above him a second time. "Be quiet you dammed creature."
"Don't worry Darold, it only a squirrel. You're lucky it could have been an Elf, then you would really be in trouble." called out one of his men from a nearby tree, the captain could not see which from here.
"Captain Darold, Captain Darold." a voice called from the ground below.
"Be quiet you fool, I'm on my way down. Just stay where you are." whispered back the captain.
Darold then swung his feet over the branch and dropped lightly to the ground next to the startled soldier. The man handed him a sheet of paper and stood waiting for the Captain to read it.
"I am supposed to read this am I," the captain asked. "I don't think a light would be a good idea at the moment.
"Sorry captain the prince asked me to pass this on to you. He said that it is your orders from tomorrow's battle. You are to read them as soon as it is light enough."
"Which will be in two hours, meaning no sleep for me tonight then. Tell the prince I stand ready to carry out his orders, as do my men."
"Yes captain."
With that the soldier hurried off thought the night, nearly bumping into several trees on the way out of the woods.
"Fool," thought Darold. "Well at least he isn't in my unit."
"What's up captain," whispered a voice close to his ear.
Darold glanced around and saw Sergeant Kiel and several of his men gather around his tree.
"I have just received our orders. Pass the word as quietly as possible, I want all the men ready for battle in two hours time. It will be light then and I will read what the prince has planned then. With any luck it will be something that keeps us out of the fighting as long as possible."
The sergeant and the men slipped off into the night to find the rest of the small force gathered nearby. Darold was left alone holding the message from the prince.
Less than four hours later both armies met in the fields outside Biedenkoft. Prince Siegfried himself was leading the southern cavalry, while Prince Pieter Oden and his generals led their own cavalry from the centre of the rest of their army. Around him was gathered over a thousand infantry and mounted troops.
As his army marched towards Biedenkoft, Pieter leaned over to General Osternord.
"Remember what we discussed last night. I want your men to move around on the enemy from the west. With any luck they should be driven east towards the forest. Then they will be trapped and our archers can have some fun."
"Yes my lord, I won't fail you."
It was only two hours after sun rise when the armies finally came to blows. With a scream to their god Haelyn, the southern army charged the massed northern infantry. The ground shook and over five hundred horses galloped at full stride towards the steady line of infantry. As they neared their targets the men on the backs of the horses slowly lowered the long spears that served as lances in the Rohrmarch armies. Some in the front rows of Prince Oden's army shook as they watched the enemy approaching, a line of steal spikes pointed towards them.
Pieter Oden wasn't about to let his armies be slaughtered so easily though and ordered his own mounted troops forward into the fray. In an almost perfect manoeuvre the northern cavalry rode easily through the infantry and rode out to meet the enemy, there own lances lowered to meet the charge. After the horses had passed the infantry began moving to the right out of the line of the charging horses.
The two armies met with a crash as loud as thunder. Men, horses and weapons were tossed into the air as the cavalry tore into each other. Over half the men on both sides were dismounted in the first few seconds of the clash, and nearly a hundred of them were dead or wounded. Those still able to stand quickly drew their swords and began slashing at the enemy soldier, horses or any thing else that looked like it was dangerous. Those still on horseback also discarded their lances and drew their swords before moving to attack any enemy still standing.
Pieter Oden could see that his cavalry would not last long against the superior enemy numbers, but that was not important, all they had to do was hold out for a few minutes while Osternord moved his infantry into position. The Prince looked to the west and saw the infantry were nearly ready to attack. All he was waiting for now was the signal from the General.
While the prince waited the fighting in front of his continued. Most of the men were now on foot, having lost their horses or been tossed from their saddles in the initial clash. Prince Siegfried however still had his horse, the yellow plumes on his helm a banner to the rest of his men. The young prince swung his sword like a seasoned veteran, mowing down any of Oden's men who dared to match skills with him. Several other of his men near him also were still on horseback, and protected the southern prince from any who tried to strike him from behind or his side.
Prince Oden felt someone tugging on his shirt. It was one of his guards who was frantically pointed to the west. The prince looked in that direction and saw the General's standard flying high above the infantry gathered there. Quickly Pieter pulled out his hunting horn and blew two long, loud notes that carried over the noise of the battle. Those cavalry still mounted spun around on their horses and fled the battle. The rest also pulled back, slowly retreating while still attempting to hold off the enemy cavalry. General Osternord lowered his standard and his infantry started running as fast as they could towards the enemy cavalry still engaged in battle.
Prince Siegfried's men soon saw the infantry rushing towards them and realised that they stood little or no chance against six hundred infantry without their horses. Those still able attempted to flee south. It was then that all of Pieter's trap became apparent as another two hundred soldiers under Kurt Warkinde's control emerged from behind the village where they had moved early that morning, just before the battle was to begin. With no where to run the southern army now had no choice but to flee east, towards a small woodland area.
Very few of the southern soldiers survived the slaughter that followed, as Oden's archers and scouts opened fire with their bows. Perhaps as many as a hundred and fifty fled the fields and down the road towards Kiedel. Others had been captured, but still over three hundred lay dead on the fields. The prince and his generals, walking the fields in the hours after the battle were however dismayed to hear the King Alaric's son had escaped with the surviving southerners. Prince Oden did not waste any time worrying about the escape of his enemies son however, and set about preparing his soldiers for the march on Kiedel city.

Far from this battle in the fiery hills of Kal-Saitharak, the Gorgon was receiving a visit from el-Hadid, the new ruler of the Chimaeron. Once a powerful guilder in Anuire el-Hadid had been deceived by the words of a priest of Rournil and was now cursed by the foul taint of Azari's blood. This had twisted his features and forced him to flee his holdings in Anuire to make a new home in the Iron Peaks. After a battle with the Chimaera herself el-Hadid now claimed rulership of her lands which he renamed the Iron Hills. So it was on the Gorgon's invitation that the cloaked figure of el-Hadid, found himself climbing the narrow road that led to the edifice known as Kal-Saitharak.
Inside the imposing fortress the Gorgon watched as his guards led his visitor towards the castle gates. "The fool came," he though. "I guess he is more greedy than frightened. Good, the greedy ones are always easy to trick."
It was more than an hour before el-Hadid was bought into the throne room. Also present were the Gorgon's chief advisors, including the priestess known as the Hand of Azari. The Iron Hills ruler was alone, no guards or any others had made the journey with him.
The Gorgon watched with interest as he was led into the chamber. Word had reached his ears of this man a few years back when he attacked and captured the free city of Endier. He had managed to remain in control of the city for many years, until the truth about his tainted blood was finally exposed to the other rulers. As one they had invaded Endier and were still squabbling over who should take el-Hadid's treasury while the guilder himself was fleeing east by boat, with much of that treasury. The Gorgon had been worried that he may not be as easy to fool as the others had been in the past, but once word of el-Hadid clothing first reached him he knew it would be easy. The guilder was dressed in the finest robes. Laced with gold and gems, they were the clothing of a man who valued his personal appearance above all others.
As the guilder entered the room even the Gorgon was a little surprised. He had expected a creature, twisted by the blood of Azari, much as he had been over the centuries. The man that stood before him looked perfectly normal however, not even a trace of any changes in his appearance from that of a normal human. The Gorgon glanced to his left toward the Hand of Azari. As his gaze meet her she pointed once towards one of her fingers.
The Gorgon frowned. "What is she trying to say."
Turning back towards el-Hadid he looked over the guilders body again. It was then he noticed a ring on one of the guilder's fingers was glowing slightly. He looked again and thought, "where have I seen that ring before."
Then he remembered, the ring was very similar to one he had seen on the hand of an Elven assassin who disguised as an Orog warrior, attempted to break into Kal-Saitharak and kill him. A ring of shape change, it enabled the wearer to hide his true appearance.
The Gorgon smiled as it looked as though this guilder was going to be even easier to fool than he thought. The man was obviously only concerned in his appearance. All I need to do is offer him what he wants, and he will take it, then both him and his realm will soon be mine.
El-Hadid walked to the throne and bowed lowed before the Gorgon before straightening and boldly meeting the ancient Awshegh's eyes.
"Greetings mighty Gorgon, I am here at your request."
The Gorgon nearly drew his sword and killed him there. He was not used to being called the Gorgon to his face. If one of his servants had called him thus he would have dispatched the servant and most likely the servant's family as a warning that he prefer the title of Prince Raesene.
"Please sit, noble guilder we have much to discuss." The Gorgon said instead. "I have need of your services. It seems that a recent accident has left me without a guildmaster to run my economy. As I have heard so much of your skills in this area I thought I would invite you here to discuss you taking over the guilds and merchants here in the Crown, and Mur-Kilad. I don't ask much in return for such an honour, just that you allow me to station a few Dwarven troops in your kingdom to protect against invaders and the like."
The Gorgon watch el-Hadid closely while he talked, keeping a close eye on the guilder as he listened. The guilder seemed very interested when he spoke of the guilds, and a little worried when he mention the Dwarves.
"Do not worry my friend, the Dwarves I speak of will be under your command, not mine. I mealy want to ensure that nothing happens to my new guildmaster."
"And what may I ask, mighty Gorgon, is the price for all this assistance." asked el-Hadid.
This question caught the Gorgon by surprise, he hadn't thought of asking el-Hadid for a price. Thinking quickly replied.
"Nothing major, I will require that you turn over half of the money that you make in my lands to me, and that should I require your assistance you will help to the best of your abilities."
"Then we have a deal." said el-Hadid.
The Gorgon frowned slightly, this was too easy. Even he though the guilder would take a little more convincing that this. The frown didn't remain on his face long however as he rose and offered the guilder his hand in friendship. El-Hadid also stood and shook the Gorgon's hand. Then the two new allies walked towards a table by the windows looking out from the upper levels of the castle. On the table was a treaty paper which the Gorgon had his priestess create the previous week. After signing the treaty the Gorgon offer el-Hadid a tour of the fortress, surprisingly el-Hadid declined.
"I apologize my lord, but I must really be on my way. I would like to get back to my kingdom as soon as possible before my lieutenant makes a total mess of my affairs."
"I understand completely my friend, but before you go perhaps their is one small favour I might ask. Nothing major, just a small problem I need removing before my current plans can proceed. I am sure someone with your abilities would have no trouble completing the task I ask. And when you succeed I will consider our alliance complete."
Two hours later el-Hadid left the castle clutching a large rolled up map under one arm, and wearing a pouch at his belt that he did not arrive with. As before he was led down the road by an entire unit of the Gorgon's best soldiers. In the throne room the Gorgon and the Hand of Azari, watched him riding down the road, surrounded by the Orog soldiers.
"What was on the map you gave him my Lord," the Hand asked. "You did not mention it, or any favour that el-Hadid would perform for you before."
"Something I want taken care of. If he succeeds then it will make our invasion all the easier. If he fails, well it will make taking his kingdom all the easier. I wonder why he was in such a hurry."
"Perhaps my lord it had something to do with that ring of his, I have heard that magic like that can only be used for a limited period of time a day. I would say that the guilder is in a hurry to get out of the castle before the spell fails and exposes his true appearance."
"Perhaps, who knows. I am glad he didn't stick around, he might have spotted our plan. I'm not sure I trust that one. Most human merchants are easy to read, they are only after one thing and that is money. This one though seems more interested in acquiring territory. I only hope that Kiras's Dwarves do their job when it is time, has he left for Mur-Kilad yet?"
"Two days ago my lord. He is preparing a suitable force to send south with the merchant now. The last message from Mur-Kilad yesterday mentioned that he had arrived and was moving some of the miners there into several new divisions of the army."
"Good, then everything is ready. All we have to wait for is to see if our merchant friend succeeds in the task I have set him or if he fails. Then we can begin our little war. It will be good to leave the castle again, it has been too many years since I went to war and now looks like as good a time as any."
"Indeed Lord Raesene. The enemy armies will soon be crushed and their heads in a pile at your feet, and with any luck we will kill off enough of your own troops that we won't have to feed them over winter."
The Gorgon almost laughed at that comment, turning to sit and watch the volcanos out the throne room window. The eruption of the western volcano seemed almost joyous, a match for his own mood. The eruption soon died down however and the Gorgon and his high priestess moved once more to the war room to plan the final preparation for the coming war. Outside and to the south, as night fell once more on the landscape the guilder and Awnshegh known as el-Hadid stepped into the shadows of a particularly leafy tree and vanished. His escort spent the next five hours looking for him, but no trace could be found. Resigned to their fate the turned and headed back down the path to Kal-Saitharak to face the Gorgon's wrath at lossing their charge.

[Raesene Andu]

Chapter 3 (The Destruction of Osternord Castle)

Osternord Castle was a mighty edifice that rose out of the forests of the province of the same name. For the past three hundred years it had stood against invaders from Kiergard, Massenmarch or any other of Rohrmarch's northern neighbours. Combined with the citadel in Oden city the castle ensured the protection of the people of Rohrgaard from the Orog and Goblin hordes that were now said to roam the land in Kiergard. Home to the Osternord family, third in line for the throne it was also important in the politics of Rohrmarch.
Surrounding the fortress was the town of Osternord. It was only small compared to the twin capitals of Keidel and Oden, but it was the largest settlement in the province and home to many of the carpenters and carvers that worked the timbers harvested from the great forests of the province. With the castle itself on a hill overlooking the town it provided the best view of the northern border available, unless one were to set up camp in the monster infested Vicissitude Mountains to the east.
In the past this castle had supported a large garrison, numbering maybe a thousand soldiers, all ready to protect the kingdom. But now with the civil war waging throughout the Rohrmarch, Osternord's army had been stripped from the castle and sent to fight in the battles even now being fought in Nunkappel and other southern provinces. This left the castle and the town relatively unprotected, with maybe as many as two or three hundred soldiers left to fight off any invasion from Kiergard to the north or the Vampire's Hold to the east. The people of Osternord did not appear worried though, obviously thinking that reputation alone would be enough to protect them.

So it was the very same night that the Gorgon had made his deal with the new ruler of the Chimaeron and Prince Oden was marching on the southern city of Kiedel that a strange cloaked figure walked into the town. Covered from head to toe in a dark purple, hooded cloak not even the slightest glimpse of his face or features could be seen. Strapped to this beings back was a large sword, crafted it seemed from a single shard of blue crystal. As the creature passed the town's graveyard the sword glowed slightly with a pale blue light. The figure stopped and looked towards the graveyard for a moment and noting the dark figures moving between the trees there continued on its journey towards town. Old Karn the gravedigger did not see the figure moving along the road, or note its interest in his home. He was too busy drinking to notice the shadows creeping towards him through the darkness, fingers reaching for his bony body. His corpse was found the next day, the life drained from it leaving little more than a dry husk. The next night another shadow would join the others in the graveyard.
None of this was of importance to the cloaked figure though as it was in Osternord on a very important mission, in fact the very same one given to the guilder el-Hadid that very night, only a few hours ago. For this creature was el-Hadid, although this time he was not using his shape changing ring, for its power was limited. Instead he was relying on more mundane means to keep his appearance a secret. The cloak he wore was one crafted especially for him by the three mage who inhabited his realm in return for their freedom from his dungeons. When worn with the hood over the head it hid the wearers face in a dark shadow that was impossible to penetrate at night, and even difficult to see through during the day.
Not that the cloak was really needed, as it was a dark night and few people walked the streets of cities in Rohrmarch after nightfall. Even the Castle guards stayed in doors on a night like this one, and el-Hadid could see the light from their guardrooms from where he was, on the outskirts of Osternord town. Unlike many of the other Brecht cities and towns Osternord did not have lanterns to light the streets after darks. As a result the night's gloom settled over the town like a blanket, with only a few shards of brightness indicating an open door to a tavern or similar building.

El-Hadid was passing the first such building when he encountered trouble. A pair of drunken locals, farmers by their garb, staggered out of the tavern straight into the cloaked figure of the Awnshegh. Down they all went in a tangled heap, the farmers still laughing over a joke told by their friends in the Tavern. El-Hadid was not laughing however as the hood of his cloak had fallen from his face in the fall, exposing his twisted features to all. Thinking quickly climbed to his feet and drew his blade, his cloak falling down around his body to hide his features once more. With a quick thrust one farmer was dead, his heart pierced by the crystal blade of the Awnshegh's sword. The second farmer opened his mouth to scream for help but found his throat slit by an extremely sharp dagger el-Hadid had drawn in his second hand. His eyes still open in pure terror at the glimpse of the Awnshegh's features he had seen, the farmer dropped to the ground his blood pooling on the cobblestones.
All of this occurred in the space of a few seconds, before any of the other patrons of the tavern had even heard anything. El-Hadid thought quickly. He wiped the two blades on the farmers clothes and sheathed them quickly. With a strength that defied his small frame he leant down and grabbed hold of the two farmer's belts dragging their bodies around the corner of the building into a small alley. In the alley were several empty barrels, stored there by the tavern until they could be collected. With incredible ease he tossed the dead bodies into two of the large barrels, then turned and fled the alley, not wanted to be stopped and questioned now, in case his mission was discovered.
Peering around the corner he saw that the street was again quiet and no-one else had left the tavern to investigate the noise outside. As he passed the tavern door he risked a glance inside, and saw the reason no-one else had left the tavern. They were all engrossed in watching a drinking contest between a Baruk-Azik Dwarf and the tavern champion. El-Hadid quickly turned away and continued along the main street towards the road leading up the hillside to the castle.

As he walked he wondered just why he was doing this. Certainly if he succeeded he would gain the Gorgon's gratitude, but did the ancient Awnshegh have something else in mind for him, or was his offer of an alliance nothing more than a ploy to distract him. El-Hadid smiled when he though of the plans he himself was already preparing. With any luck by the time he returned from this trip his lieutenant Nekrul would have prepared his army for what was to come and then when the Gorgon struck he would be ready with a powerful force of his own.
So lost in his plans and plots el-Hadid did not notice that he had arrived at the outer gates of the fortress, and he was standing in the light of the two enchanted lanterns that cast light onto the street below. The guards of the castle however did notice his arrival and with their swords drawn were already approaching his position.
The captain of the gate guards had seen the figure of el-Hadid walking slowly up the road several minutes before and wondered just who would be out after dark. Waking the other guards he had moved to a position directly in front of the approaching figure. Lost in his thoughts el-Hadid did not notice him until his line of sight came into line with the Captains steels capped boots. Quickly his hooded head came up and he saw in front of his a small collection of sleepy guards and their captain. He almost laughed then when he thought how easy this would be.
"Now just who might you be then," the captain asked.
"Just a simple traveller seeking a place to stay the night noble lord," a soft voice replied. "I have walked a long way from the south with news of the war and are looking for a place to rest before I continue on to Rohrgaard."
"News of the war you say, do you know then if the Prince has finally crushed that dog Alaric?"
"When I left the southern lands Alaric's forces where falling before the prince. I believe that soon he will be inside the city of Keidel itself."
"Then that is indeed good news, come we will let you rest for the night here in our barracks, as long as you do not mind us prying you the latest news."
"Not at all my friend let us go, I have much to tell and a short time to tell it."
The Captain and the Awnshegh turned and walked with the rest of the guards towards the gatehouse of the castle. One of the guards however stood there looking confused, trying to shake off the fog of sleep that still enveloped him. He thought about what he had just heard and something did not make sense, something was very wrong with this visitors story. For several minutes he stood there thinking over what he had just heard while the cool night air slowly cleared his head. Then it hit him the stranger was on foot. He turned and ran towards the gatehouse shouting to his companions.
"Look out he is an enemy, the Royal messengers ride on horse back and this man is on foot. We should have received news from them before any traveller who has walked the whole way."
Running into the gatehouse he was just in time to see el-Hadid dispatch the last of his fellow guards. Blood was everywhere as were the bodies of his companions yet the stranger did not ever seem to be injured. In a rage the guard drew his sword and rush the man from behind. El-Hadid was not so easily taken though and had heard the guard shouting as he ran towards the gatehouse. Turning towards the rushing guard he concentrated his thoughts and sent a wave of mental energy towards the running man. The guard felt as though his mind had exploded as waves of painful thoughts washed through him. The force of the attack was so great he was flung back against the stone wall of the gatehouse. Confused and dazed he was only able to feebly raise his sword in defence before el-Hadid had pierced his heart with his crystal sword. The Awnshegh calmly withdrew the weapon and pulling a blanket from a nearby bed wiped the blood covered blade clean.
Then he left the gatehouse and walked through the open castle gates and into the castle proper.

Inside the walls el-Hadid slowly crept along the wall, always keeping to the shadows. He knew that he had only an hour at the most before the dead guards would be found so he had to move fast. He spotted a side entrance into the keep and quickly moved through the darkness towards it. Fortunately his abilities gave him almost perfect sight in darkness and therefore a tremendous advantage over the humans in the castle.
Reaching the door he quickly check to see if it was locked, which of course it was. Cursing under his breath he reached into a pouch tied to his belt and pulled out a small bundle. Untying it he rolled out his set of thieves tools, the finest gold could buy. Selecting two small picks he knelt next to the door and slowly inserted them into the door locks. A few quick twists and the lock sprung with a load click. El-Hadid quickly repackaged his tools and opened the door and enter the keep proper.
The door led into the castle's kitchen, which fortunately was empty at this time of night. After a quick look around he slipped across the room toward the next door, through which a stream of bright light poured. Hiding behind the door frame he glanced around the corner into the next room.
Two soldiers were asleep at their post in the room beyond, their booted feet sitting on the table in front of them. Damm he though, this is just what I didn't want, more guards. Carefully he crept into the room and stepping as lightly as possible he crossed the room. For several moments he though he would not make it as one of the guards stirred in his sleep. El-Hadid froze, his hand on his dagger just in case the guards woke. But the uncooperative guard soon slipped back into a deep slumber and he was able to make it all the way across the room without waking them.
After a quick check to make sure no-one else waited in the hallway beyond he left the room and entered a narrow hallway running north-south. El-Hadid looked both ways, unsure which to take, then finally unable to make a choice he had to consult his map. First walking a short distance down the passage away from the guards he pulled the folded paper from a pocket of the robes he wore beneath his cloak. Unfolding it he placed it against the wall, using the light from a nearby lantern to read it. The map he had been given by the Gorgon soon showed his position, just south of the main dining room. After studying it for several minutes to make sure he had memorized everything on it and was sure of his position he folded it up once more and put it away.
It was then he heard voices coming from further down the passage. The seemed to be getting closer so el-Hadid quickly looked around for somewhere to hide. The only possible place seemed to be between two darkened pillars where none of the light from the nearby lanterns fell and he moved quickly to this area, pressing himself against the wall to ensure nothing was showing. The owners of the two voices soon came into view walking down the passage from the stairs to the south. Turning the corner they came to the door leading to he kitchens and halted only a few metres from the hidden el-Hadid.

The first man was a young warrior wearing a heavy breastplate inscribed with the crest of the Osternord family, a soaring dragon with a crown above its head. At his belt swung a heavy looking broadsword. Unlike El-Hadid's graceful weapon this sword had only one purpose, to slice parts of an enemies body off. The second man however was totally different. To start with he was about forty years older that the young man in armour, and he was dressed in thick robes to ward off the cold and not the chain or plate armour favoured by the soldiers of Rohrmarch. He also had at his belt a large number of pouches and small bags, while in his calloused hands he held a large book in which he was making notes as he walked. It was the young man who seemed to be doing most of the talking while the older man continued to write in his book.
"And this tapestry here must also be replaced, remind me to tell father when he returns from the war," the young man was saying.
"Yes my lord," was the older man's reply.
"And also remind me to replace the kitchen guards tomorrow these two seem to be asleep again."
The young lord then walked into the room and picking up a pot sitting on the table banged it with his sword. The two guards in the room beyond both fell of their chairs as the were jolted awake by the load noise. Struggling to focus the opened their eyes to see the angry face of their lord, and quickly closed them again.
"I trust you two have been having a good time?" Lord Branm Osternord asked.
"Sorry my lord, but we have been very busy lately with the rest of the castle guard off fighting with the prince and we just needed some sleep." spoke up one of the guards.
"Well then perhaps a bit of night air will do you some good. I want both of you walking post outside the main gates and if I catch you asleep again then I will assign you to guarding the town graveyard and I am sure neither of you wants that."
"No my lord," said the guards in unison as they both struggled into the armour while trying to fasten their sword belts at the same time. Legends of the horrible creatures that haunted the graveyard after dark were told throughout the town and the guards did not wish to be sent off to that dark place. They moved out the door so quickly the did not even notice that it was already unlocked and ran out into the courtyard beyond.
"I really think that we must have been left with the worst of the castle guard when Prince Alder selected troops to go with him to Friedlund, what do you think Wilheim."
"Yes my lord, I agree totally. Shall I make a note to reprimand the guardsmen Calder and Kort?"
"No I will let them off this time. After all I do not wish to appear a tyrant before the troops do I now. The two fellows were only catching up on some lost sleep."
As he finished saying this a shout came from the direction of the gate house. The young lord frowned and went to the kitchen door wondering what his guards were up to now. Looking outside he saw one of the guardsmen he had just sent to the gate running back across the courtyard waving his hands and shouting.
"I think something may be happening out there Wilheim, perhaps we had best go check it out."
"Yes my lord."
The two nobles then left through the kitchen door to see what the frantic guardsman Kort has discovered. In the passage behind them el-Hadid stepped out of the shadows where he had been hiding and quickly sprinted off to the south, knowing that he now had only a few minutes before the alarm was raised.

Outside in the courtyard Kort quickly told the Lord of the castle and his advisor what he and Calder has discovered.
"They are all dead lord, someone seems to have broken into the gatehouse and slain them. There is blood everywhere."
"What!"
"Its true my lord, all the gate guards are dead. Me and Calder found them that way."
"Then someone must have broken into the castle. Wilheim you go and raise the alarm and see if you can get my mother out of harms way. I will go with the guardsman here and see if I can find out what has happened. I want the whole castle searched from end to end, someone may be after the treasury."
"Yes my lord," said Lord Wilheim.
"Then get going man, I don't want my father to return to find mother dead and the treasury empty. Alaric must have sent a raiding party to attack the castle. Now get going."
Wilheim bowed once and then turned and ran as fast as his old legs could carry him towards the main guardhouse on the other side of the courtyard. Lord Branm grabbed Kort and headed in the direction of the gatehouse.
Once he arrived he could see that nothing could be done for the men here, they had been slaughtered. Who ever had done this must have hit them while they were on a break as most of the corpses faces seemed shocked at what had happened to them.
"Doesn't look like we can do much for them Lord Branm," said Calder. "Someone must have caught them with their pants down, so to speak."
"Or perhaps they were sleeping like you two," retorted Branm angrily. "Not that it matters now already Alaric's men must be inside the castle. You two go to the town and see if you can get father Dane and his priests to assist us and hurry, we may not have much time left.
Once the two guards had left lord Branm ran back to the courtyard, just in time to meet up with Wilheim and the rest of the castle guard. Looking over the collected soldiers he quickly reached a decision.
"Wilheim, you take half the troops and go around the keep, checking all the buildings on the way. Then I want you search the keep. Start at the ground floor and work your way up. The rest of you with me."
There was a moment of confusion as the soldiers sorted themselves out into two equal groups but they quickly worked it out and the half with Lord Branm ran towards the main entrance to the keep. Wilheim quickly followed suit and his troops spread out to search the castle grounds.

Meanwhile el-Hadid was running down the stairs leading to the lowest level of the castle. Reaching the cellar he quickly looked around for his objective and soon found it. Along one wall of the cellar was a large pile of large barrels, stacked on top of each other until they reached the ceiling. Quickly consulting his map he saw he was on the correct level, so these must be the barrels the Gorgon mention. Moving over to them he knelt and carefully removed a large bag that had been hanging from his belt. Placing it on the stone floor he started removing the cloth that had been stuffed into the bag to prevent the object inside from breaking. Once this was done he pulled the object out and looked carefully at it.
In his hands he now held a delicate looking crystal ball, with a glowing ball of fire burning in the centre of the globe. El-Hadid quickly turned away from the bright light as it burned at his eyes after they had become used to the darkness of the stairs and the cellar. After several glances he found he could look at the globe and pushing the pile of cloth scattered on the floor behind one of the barrels he placed the crystal globe on top of it. He then pulled out a small piece of paper that had been given to him by the gorgon. Using the light from the globe to see he carefully read the strange words that were written on it. After he had done so the paper seemed to flare and catch alight. El-Hadid threw the burning scrap of paper into the darkness behind him, well away from the barrels and then turned to look once more at the globe.
The flame seemed to become much brighter and the light seemed to pulse slightly as he watched. El-Hadid knew better however than to spend too much time in the cellar. The Gorgon had been most insistent that once the paper had been read he should leave as quickly as he could if he wanted to live. Picking himself up off the floor he sprinted back towards the stairs and began the climb back to the upper levels.
He had just reached the ground floor when Lord Branm and his men arrived at the stairs. Seeing the cloaked figure running up the stairs he ordered his men to attack. With a yell the large group of guards charged el-Hadid who once he heard them coming turned and headed back to the stairs, this time going upwards instead of down. Branm was at the head of his troops as they reached the stairs.
With a wave of his hand he yelled to his men, "some of you check below there may be more of them."
About half of the soldiers with him, headed down the stairs towards the cellars while the rest followed their Lord in pursuit of the invader. Reaching the first floor Branm quickly glanced around and not seeing any sign of the invader assumed that he must be heading towards the door leading to the castle walls and started running up the stairs to the second floor.
Having just reached the second floor el-Hadid glanced frantically around. He knew that he only had a few minutes before whatever the Gorgon had given him did its job. Then he remembered the map he had been given. Somewhere on the second floor there was a door leading to a bridge to the castle walls. Thinking quickly he found the right passage and ran down it as fast as he could. At the end of the passage was a solid oak door door, which to el-Hadid's amazement was unlocked. Flinging it open he ran out over the bridge to the castle walls.
Hot on his heals however came Lord Branm and his troops. Glancing backwards el-Hadid saw the young lord chasing him and cursed loudly. He had by now reached the walls and turning right he started running along the wall towards the west tower. It turned out to be the wrong decision however as another group of guards had just left the tower and were running along the wall towards him. Drawing his sword in one hand and his dagger in his other he prepared for a fight.
Lord Branm seeing the invader trapped let out a yell of triumph and pulled out his own heavy weapon. Motioning for his men to stand back he approached the Awnshegh who watched him carefully from beneath the deep hood of his cloak.
"Well my friend it seems that you plan has failed and now you will die," gloated Branm.
El-Hadid responded by raising his weapons are readying to strike.
"So it is fight that you is it. I must warn you that I have been the champion swordsman in the spring festival four years running. Any duel can only end in your death."
Without a word el-Hadid moved to attack, his blue crystal sword swinging towards the lords legs while he held his dagger to defend against any attacks. Branm hopped lightly over the sword and brought his own weapon down in a swinging arch that should have cut his opponent in half. This was no ordinary human though and what he lacked in skill el-Hadid made up for with strength. Raising his dagger above his head he deflected Darnm's thrust using the strength given to him by his tainted bloodline. Branm stepped back looking in shock at the figure in front of him. What the invader had just done was impossible. His sword should have smashed through the dagger with ease, never before had he met anyone able to deflect a sword with a mere dagger. Worried now he motioned for his guards behind him and on the other side of the invader to attack.
El-Hadid saw the Lord's hand movements and quickly positioned himself against on the far edge of the wall so he did not have to fight off attacks from all sides. The guards came in a wave attempting to overpower the invader by rushing him. This was a more experienced opponent than they were used to however and el-Hadid simply swung his sword in a wide arc. The guards were moving to fast to avoid the blade and three of them fell as the sword point slashed across their throats or faces. Leaping into the space now vacated by the fallen guards el-Hadid avoided the others coming from the right. Stabbing out with his right hand he struck one of these in the chest with his dagger. The guard fell, grabbing at one of the other guards for support and ending up tripping him instead. The other guards moved back slightly wary now at approaching such a skilful swordsman. They looked at each other for support but saw none there as they slowly backed away from the Awnshegh.

Meanwhile the guards who had gone down the stairs instead of up had finally reached the bottom cellar. One of the quickly noticed a bright pulsing glow on the far side of the room next to the oil barrels. He moved to investigate fearing that the invader may have lit a fire in the cellars hoping to burn down the fortress. He never made it across because at that moment the cellar erupted in fire as the Gorgon's powerful spell was released. The massive oil barrels kept in the cellar for use in a siege fuelled the explosion of flame as it swept across the room. The guard could only watch in horror for the spilt second it took for the wall of flames to make it across the room and reduce his body to a charred corpse. None of the other soldiers were any luckier as they were also swept away in the explosion of magical fire.

Outside on the wall the guards were warily circling el-Hadid looking for an opening so they could strike when they heard a strange noise behind them. It sounded as though a powerful wind was rushing towards them at high speed. Spinning around the were just in time to see the flames rush out up the stairs from the cellar and pour out of the open windows and doors of the keep. It looked as the thought the keep itself had changed into a horrible monster spewing fire from every opening.
El-hadid took the chance offer to make his exit and jumped over the edge of the wall. Concentrating as hard as he could he slowed his fall and floated lightly to the ground rushing off into the night, away from the castle. None of the guards ever saw his exit however as they were to busy watching the keep burning to the ground.
The fire had swept away all in its path including the ancient timbers that supported the walls. When these burnt away the keep could not support its own weight and collapsed inwards tumbling to the ground like a stack of cards.
Lord Branm could only watch in horror as his home was destroyed in front of his very eyes. The destruction did not stop there however as the fire next spread to the wooden buildings that lined the inner walls of the castle. The smithy, the guardhouse and the stable all caught alight and still the fire was spreading. His body shaking Dranm could only watch as the east wall started to buckle and fall as the flames destroyed the supports that had stood for centuries. His sword slipped from his numb fingers and dropped with a clatter to the stones below, but the young Lord did not even notice. His home, his whole life was being destroyed around him and there was nothing he could do about it. He dropped to his knees and began to sob as the flames spread to the gatehouse. He knew that there was nothing he could do and soon it would all be gone.

By morning el-Hadid was far from the castle, but looking back he could still see the pillars of smoke rising from the direction of Osternord. With a smile on his face and a spring in his step he turned away and walked off down the road towards the border of the province. It was a long walk, but soon he would be back in the Iron Hills and on his way back to Mhowe and his own castle. Still maybe he could find someone with a horse and convince them to part with their ride, for a fair price of course.

[Raesene Andu]

Chapter 4 (Defeat at Kiedel)

Prince Oden looked across the plain towards the city. In the distance he could see the last of the enemy soldiers fleeing into the protection of Kiedel. After the last of these troops had entered the city gates were closed with a loud bang shutting off all entrance into the city. The prince watched all this impassively, knowing that soon his own troops would soon be trying to breach those very gates in an attempt to capture the city. At either side of the prince sat his advisors and generals while behind him were his main army, well over a thousand strong.
Pieter motioned to his general as they dismounted walking with him to a nearby building, an inn by the look of the sign swaying in the breeze outside the structure. The men walked inside and joined the priest Kurt Warkinde at a table, on which he had laid out a rough map of the city.
"Well men you have now seen what we are up against, what are your opinions," asked the prince.
"We must attack now, my prince," spoke up General Friendel, head of the cavalry. "If we wait then the enemy has a chance to set up defences against our attacks."
"He has known we were coming for some time, I would think that he already has his defences ready for us now," responded the prince. "Any other suggestions."
"I have one Lord," came a voice from the back of the room.
All eyes turn to look at the speaker. It was the young head of the royal scouts, Captain Darold.
"If we besiege the city and wait in a couple of weeks we will have the artillery from Osternord with us and then we can use them to bombard the city, destroying the wall so that we might just walk through them."
"But that will take time," responded Friendel. "If we don't strike now the King will bring in extra troops from Edel and crush us."
"Assuming that there are even troops in Edel," said General Osternord. "Our intelligence in that province has yet to confirm this story. If we invade now it is my infantry that will bear the brunt of any attack. Without archers we are vulnerable at the moment. It has been said to me that Alaric has over four hundred archers in his army, and if a large portion of these are in the city at the moment then we will be slaughtered as we charge the wall. I suggest staying then we can destroy their walls with the artillery and use the General Friendel's cavalry and those your son commands in Rohrgaard to ride through the breaches in the wall and attack."
"What about the armies in Edel," the head of the cavalry insisted. "We must prevent any attack from that direction.
"Then we should position the men around the city to prepare for an attack from both directions," said Osternord. "That way we can stop the King and his troops leaving the city and hold off any relief troops at the same time. We could use some of the buildings outside the city as a base, and perhaps even fortify the town of Hollfeld with some of my infantry in case troops from Edel or Alklund attempt to enter the province. A third of our forces here should prove sufficient."
"Good thinking, both of you," said the Prince. "I want you Otto to take charge of stopping any reinforcements from getting here. Captain Darold, I want you to head north and contact my son. Tell him he is to leave Friedlund and come south to Nunkappel, and make sure he is bringing the artillery with him. We are going to need them. Friendel, I want you and everyone else here to work on preparations for an attack. Start chopping down what trees you can find. I want the men busy building ladders, and battering rams in case we need them before the artillery arrive. Also gather all the large stones you can find. The catapults will need something to fire when they get here."
"Yes sir," the Prince's soldiers replied.

Captain Darold went back to his men latter that afternoon. Pleased as he was to be invited to the meeting of the generals he still preferred the company of his own soldiers. The sound of axes rang through the woods outside Kiedel as his scouts were busy chopping down the trees needed for the coming attack. Sergeant Keil was in charge of the lumber gathering operation and the captain could see that already a small pile of large logs was being gathered. Seeing the captain arriving the sergeant walked over to greet him.
"Greetings captain," said the sergeant. "Do you know what we are meant to be doing here?"
"You are to continue gathering as much wood as possible, then get started on building ladders, I have other duties. I will be placing you in charge until I get back sergeant."
"Yes Sir, I will get right on it, and Sir if you don't mind me asking what are your duties to be."
"I am afraid I can not tell you that yet, but you will see soon enough. Lets just say that it is of vital importance to the war effort and leave it at that. Keep an eye on things here for me, I will be back as soon as I can. Get one one of the men to saddle my horse will you."
"Yes Sir."
With that Sergeant Keil strode off towards their camp to get the Captain's horse ready. Neither of the two men noticed the hidden trapdoor in the ground near them, or the two eyes that peaked over the rim of the hole. Silently the figure lowered the trapdoor back into place and dropped into the mud at the bottom of the shaft. Hissing out a quick whisper to the other two men in the hole the spy quickly ran down a darkened tunnel towards the city. Alaric's men had been busy for months preparing this network of tunnels so they could spy on the enemy while they themselves were safe inside the city.
Half an hour latter, and still covered with mud Captain Selman stood before his king reporting on what he had heard in the enemy camp.
"It appears my lord that the enemy Captain will be travelling by horse. I believe that he is the same one we saw before talking with the traitors in their camp. If our intelligence is correct then he will be going to call on the support of Prince Alder in Friedlund. Our spies have already reported on the presence of a large enemy force in Friedlund. If we can prevent this messenger from making it out of Nunkappel and we will have the enemy where we want them."
"Very well, I want you captain to lead the mission, and don't fail me. If Oden's northern armies reach Nunkappel we are going to have a hard time stopping them this time. Even with our extra troops we will still be hard pressed."
"Yes my lord, I will leave at once by the north tunnel."
"Good, now go."
With a quick bow the captain left the throne room, heading towards the barracks.

Much latter that night Captain Darold was riding along the road towards the north. Although it was already begun to get dark he was carrying a magical torch given to him by Kurt Warkinde himself, a torch that would enable him to see as though it was still daylight. He was still a little awed that the prince had chosen him for such an important mission, and he aimed to see that his trust would not be wasted. With him rode three other soldiers, all from the Prince's personal guard. They also carried similar torches to the Captain, but unlike him did not seem as excited about the mission as he did. They rode in silence, hardly making any noise as they rode quickly into the night. Already the armies camp had fallen behind them and the men were now riding into the deserted farmland that marked the route of the armies march south over the past few days.
Darold glanced quickly around, noting the crumbling stonework of an old manor as the horse swept past. His own house was very similar, and for a moment he wished he was back home in Osternord with his family, but that would not be possible until this war was over. He was still lost in thought when suddenly one of the guards toppled off his horse, a crossbow bolt lodged in his throat. The dying guard grabbed at his horses reins as he fell, dragging it down with him. The horse lashed out under such duress and caught the legs of Darold's horse bring him to the ground as well. Although he didn't know it then but that probably saved his life as two crossbow bolt sped past where his head had been moment before.
With a thud the Darold hit the ground, sending a cloud of dust from the dry road into the air, and throwing his torch into the darkness on the side of the road. It bounced several times before landing in a water filled ditch beside the road. Surprisingly Darold was quickly able to gather his thoughts after such a fall, and rolled quickly into the same ditch where his torch lay picking it up and hiding under his thick cloak, blocking its light. He could hear the noise of fighting just over the edge of the ditch so he drew his sword and leapt into the fight.
On the road the two remaining guards were fighting a large force of at least ten men. One of the guards he could see had a bolt sticking out of his shoulder, but the other seemed uninjured at the moment. What had happened to their horses he could not determine at the moment. Darold heard a noise beside him an whipped up his blade, just in time to deflect the blow of a swordsman running towards him from the side. He leapt back and bought up his sword in defence, again just in time to stop another blow from the furious looking soldier. Calmly he examined his opponent, noting the man stance and swing as he again bought his sword down on Darold's head. This time the Captain was ready and he slipped to one side dragging his sharp blade along the mans midriff. The soldier gave a short cry and fell to the ground clutching his stomach. There was no rest for Darold however as two more soldiers came at him, both holding wicked looking short swords. Gripping his sword in one hand he held off both soldiers as he reached for his dagger. With a feint at one of the men he grabbed his chance and threw the dagger accurately at the second man, logging it in his eye, felling him. The last soldier he was facing he made short work of, killing him quickly with a blow to the heart.
Resting for a moment Darold looked around him. The other two guards appeared to have disappeared, as had the rest of the enemy soldiers. Several lay dead on the ground, but there was no sign of the rest of his escort or Alaric's men. Then he heard a cry from the other side of the stone wall that bordered the road. Running quickly he was saw the leader of Alaric's men dispatching his last guard. Swearing to himself he leapt over the fence to face the soldier. The man heard him coming and spun round, his bloody sword ready. Darold readied his own sword and prepared to face his enemy. The enemy soldier smiled as he watched the young captain approach, slowly flipping his own weapon from hand to hand. Then the enemy captain held his sword firmly and thrust, slicing along Darold's leg. Darold felt a flash of fiery pain from his left leg as the sword opened a large gash. He thrust his own sword but the enemy was easily able to deflect it with a small dagger he held in his other hand. Darold knew now that he was in trouble, outclassed by a superior foe. He did not stop however and launched into a furious volley of blows that forced his opponent backward towards the wall of the manor behind him. The enemy captain recovered quickly and soon had Darold on the back foot once more, forcing the injured captain further and further backward with each blow. Darold was sure he was dead this time, he knew he could not hold of the enemy soldier for much longer.
Then the enemy suddenly stopped fighting, clutching his back and doubling over in pain. Darold watched in amazement as the soldier fell to the ground dead. He look amazed at the body for a moment, then starting as he heard a groan off in the shadows of the manor. Looking up he saw one of his escorts leaning against the wall a heavy crossbow slipping from his fingers. Darold ran to his side only to watch the soldier's life slip away. Lowering the dead man to the ground he looked around, noting that none of the other soldiers were still alive. Then he turned his attention to his own wound, binding the bloody gash with strips of cloth from one of the dead soldiers vests. Once its was covered he limped over towards the road looking for his horse. For a moment he thought about returning to camp to have his wound mended, but that would lose at least six hours as he rode back and then the prince sent another in his place. This mission was too important for that so he resolved to ride on into the night to find young prince Alder and his troops. Finding his mount chewing on some roadside grass he dragged himself up into the saddle, grimacing in pain as he did so. With a flick of reins the horse quickly picked up pace again and Darold rode once more off into the night, heading north. But this time he was without an escort. No doubt Prince Oden's men would find the battle site soon enough as they would probably send another in case he did not make it, but Darold could not take that chance.

Two days later in a camp in southern Friedlund the sentries of Prince Alder's small force noticed a tired looking horse slowly trotting down the road towards them. The animal look half dead and its rider not much better. Noting the uniform the young rider wore they lowered his gently down from his seat and led the animal away towards the fields. Alder was soon informed and sent for a priest to look at the wounded man. It took two hours, and a lot of praying from the priest of Kirche but Darold was soon sitting up in Alder's tent relating the message from Alder's father. Two hours after that the army was being packed up ready to leave. Massive catapults were being hitched to horses and Darold was sitting on the back of a small wagon with two priests, who were busy lecturing him on the glories of Kirche and how battle was the truest form of worship of their god. He smiled to himself as he though that Kirche was sure to be happy soon as the two armies clashed at Kiedel. It would take the catapults at least ten days to make it to the city, a journey that had taken him only two, and he had been wounded.
At the head of the slowly forming column Alder rode on his pure white stallion. The horse was his personal favourite, it was the one he had received as a gift from the Duchess of Coeranys only two years ago and his prized possession. A magnificent beast it stood quietly even as the catapults started to roll, their massive wheels rolling noisily along the rough road to Keidel. The prince waited until most of the column had passed before riding up the wagon carrying captain Darold.
"Well captain how are you feeling now."
"Much better now my lord, these priest certainly know what they are doing."
"Ahh but we are simply the vessel of Kirche's will good captain," spoke up one of two priests. "You are a good soldier so your wounds have been healed and your heart made strong again by your faith. A warrior blessed by Kirche will never fall in battle."
"Well I hope that is so chaplain, as we will soon be finding out," said Alder with a smile. "For soon we ride to battle, and may Kirche protect us then."

With a loud twang the catapult offloaded its stone into the air. A load crash sounded it destination as the stone smashed into the city walls just next to the gate. It fell harmlessly into the ground, another miss. Prince Oden watched with annoyance as his artillery again failed to hit the city gates. The wooden doors, although too strong to allow him to batter them down, would easily fall to a few stones from his Catapults but so far his men had missed each shot. Still they were getting closer.
Stretched out on either side of the Prince's position was a line of ten or twelve catapults and behind them was gathered his cavalry and infantry, the latter holding massive wooden shields that had been crafted from the timber felled over the past week or so. He could see Alaric's archers gathered along the wall, fortunately out of range at the moment, but he knew as soon as the charge was order they would be downing his men with their wicked arrows.
The Catapults fired again and the Prince turned to watch, more misses. Only four had hit the wall this time and none were anywhere near the gates. Hopefully this wasn't going to take too long or he would have to call off the attack because it would be getting dark. Prince Oden had begun the attack shortly after first light with a volley of stones being flung at the enemy walls in the distance. This had continued for the next two hours, and he was still no closer to gaining entrance into the castle. Worse still it looked as though dark clouds were beginning to gather, perhaps another of the storms common in Rohrmarch. Hopefully it too would hold off long enough for him to win this battle, but things did not look promising. Flicking the reins of his horse he rode along the front lines toward his son and the rest of the command staff.
Prince Alder was sitting on his white stallion as usually, with him was the High Priest, Kurt Warkinde. The priest was now dressed for war though, in heavy looking chain armour with a large flail resting at his belt. Prince Oden could not see General Osternord, but it was likely that he was back with the infantry preparing them for battle. Pieter Oden slowed his horse and dismounted leading his stead up to the two commanders.
"Are your catapults every going to hit anything Alder," asked the Prince with a grimace as once more the catapult stones went wide of the mark.
"Don't worry father they will get there eventually, as long as we don't run out of stones."
"I wouldn't worry about that I have had the troops busy for a week now gathering what we need."
The Price and his son turned to watch the next flight of stones. This time it looked good as the stone from one of the catapults flew through the air towards the gate. It missed though and the Catapult stone smashed into the lower wall and with a crack a large chunk of stonework broke off crashing to the ground below. A cheer went up from Oden's troops as they heard the noise. A chain reaction of collapses followed and soon there was a large hole in the east wall, opening a way into the city.
Prince Oden held back his men though and ordered the catapults to concentrate on that area of the wall for another half an hour before he was satisfied. The left gate and much of the nearby wall as now gone, scattered in the grass outside the city. Although it looked rough his troops should be able to make it through the wall. He glanced to the left towards Kurt and Alder. They both nodded so the Prince signalled his flag man to get to work. The soldier waved two green flags towards either end of Oden's lines signalling the attack.
Then as the catapults fired a final attack before being pulled away from the battle as the infantry charged forward, holding their shields in front of them. Almost immediately the archers on the walls fired. A wall of arrows leapt from the parapet, quickly crossing the short distance between them and the charging soldiers and embedding themselves in the shields. Several men fell with arrows through their legs or arms but most of the soldiers charged onwards. Three more times the archers fired and each time more men fell, but the shields worked and most of Oden's soldiers survived to make it to the fallen walls. There the pulled out the heavy ladders that many had carried between them and laid them against the wall, reaching up to the top of the broken wall. Quickly the infantry swarmed up the ladders and into onto the wall.
The enemy were waiting for them though and Alaric's own infantry held the jagged gap into the city. Though much smaller in number the had the protection of what remained of the wall. Oden's men dropped their shields with a clatter and as one drew their weapons closing with the enemy. The archers were no longer any use as the two armies were now locked together, but a few still took the occasional shot when a opportunity presented itself. By now also Oden's own archers had gathered on the field. Led by Captain Darold, who had now recovered from his wounds they hid behind wooden shields while they fired at any of Alaric's men who showed their heads of the top of the wall. Several of the defenders fell before they learned of Darold's scouts who had moved quickly into position behind the infantry. Both divisions of archers now traded arrows over the walls, but neither seemed to be winning the battle.
Down at the gap in the wall however General Osternord's men were doing a lot better. Led by the General himself, decked out in his families ancient armour and weapons, they were slowly pushing back Alaric's soldiers. Both sides had already taken heavy casualties in the short, brutal fight but the General's men were winning. They were now over the wall and pushing the enemy back into the city beyond. General Osternord signalled to several of his men as soon as they had breached the wall and those men rushed to open the gate for Prince Oden and his cavalry which now waited on the hill top ready to charge through the gates.
The men quickly forced the entrance, struggling with the buckled gate which had been damaged in the catapult attack. Despite this difficulty they soon had the gate open and the path was now open into the city. On the hill top the Prince waited with the rest of his troops, the cavalry. Nearly three hundred of his best soldiers now awaited the order to charge. The Prince raised his hand and then thrust it forwards towards the city. The Cavalry leapt forward as one and shook the ground as they thundered towards the open gate, the Prince and his commanders leading the way.
Prince Oden rode through the gap in the walls with the rest of his cavalry in pursuit, his shield held high to stop any arrows launched at him. The street beyond was empty, nothing stood in his way. The Prince pulled out his horn and blew it ordering his men deeper into the city. Glancing back he saw the infantry had reached the top of the city walls and fighting was now going on above him. The enemy archers seemed to be losing and were now pulling back towards the castle to the south. The prince waved his army to the west and the cavalry speed down the street towards the markets.
Oden tugged out his sword as he noticed the streets ahead exploding into action. Alaric's own cavalry hiding in the sides streets came rushing out towards the Prince and his men. With a load clash the two sides met men falling from the horses to land heavily on the dirt streets below. The Prince saw a glint out of the corner of his eye and raised his shield in time to deflect the blow, then striking back with his own thrust hearing a scream of pain in response. Tugging his sword free he risked a glance in that direction. The man he had just hit was sliding off his horse to the ground. He was still alive by the Prince knew he would not be for long as the horses of his force rode over the top of the fallen soldier.
Suddenly his force rode into the city markets skidding to a stop when he saw what confronted him. A large force of militia had been gathered, all carrying long spears designed to stop horsemen. Quickly calling a halt the Prince and his men milled around the entrance to the central market while the militia slowly walked towards them, spears outstretched. Looking behind him he saw a similar force had emerged from another street blocking their escape. They south was still free though, blocked only by a few scattered mounted soldiers, all that was left after their initial charge into the city. Ordering his men forward the Prince led the charge down the southern street, aptly named Sword Street.
Once again the two armies of mounted soldiers clashed, Oden's men quickly overwhelming their few defenders. Now free of the trap Alaric tried to set the Prince and his men raced through the streets attacking any soldiers that they came across. They soon found themselves near the west gate and the bridge leading over the Khurinbyrn River towards the Chimaeron, or the Iron Hills as its new ruler now called it.
Well away from the main battle by now the Prince was surprised to run into a large force of soldiers marching through the west gate into the city. The cavalry charged round a corner in the road near the gate and suddenly found themselves in the middle of a group of infantry. Prince Oden quickly grasped the meaning, these were the troops supposed to be in Edel province, the King must have moved them here by boat from Alklund, risking the dangers of the Harrowmarsh to make the trip. As he laid about with his heavy, bloodstained sword he could see the masts of two large ships in the harbour beyond the gate. The King troops must have just been unloaded and were coming to join in the fight.
Thing were not looking too good for his army now. His cavalry were surrounded by at least twice their number of infantry and there will still the militia to deal with. Still a mounted unit was always a match for any infantry he thought as he sliced off the arm of a soldier attempting a strike on him. Behind him he heard a voice raised in prayer and glanced around just in time to see a column of fire erupt in the middle of the battle bringing the lives of at least five of the enemy infantry to an end. It seems that Kurt Warkinde was busy as was the Prince himself.
Suddenly he felt a stinging blow to the side of his face and reaching up felt the wetness of blood on the side of his face. He looked up towards the west wall and saw a small group of archers running along the wall firing as they come. Others in the cavalry unit had also felt the sting of the enemies arrows and at least four of his soldiers had already fallen. Pulling out his horn once again the prince blew the retreat and led his men off down a side street leaving the road behind them littered with the bodies of the dead. Prince Oden noticed Alder working his way along beside his father and leaned over on his horse to see what his son wanted.
"Father where are we heading now."
"Back to the east gates. We will have to see how the rest of our soldiers are doing before deciding our next move. It looks like we have hurt them here, but unless we withdraw we may lose. It seems Alaric has a few more troops than I counted on."
With that the Prince spurred his horse onward down the empty streets of Keidel towards the fallen east gate. They reached it only two minutes later only to find it blocked by the militia that where in the market earlier. King Alaric always thinking ahead had moved his reserves to the gates to trap Oden's Cavalry within the city. Once again the Prince called a halt as they looked around for a way out. On the walls above the city he could see the fighting still going on. It looked as though his soldiers were winning that battle, but control of the walls would be no good against the number of fresh soldiers Alaric would be moving into this battle soon. Although many now lay dead inside the west gate he had seen many more rushing along the road from the wharves. They would soon be pushed into the battle and then Prince Oden's men would be in real trouble. Once again he pulled out his horn and blew it several times in the direction of the east walls.
On top of the wall General Osternord was leading his men against what remained of Alaric's archers. The walls were now slick with the blood of the dead and more than one man had fallen to his death after losing his footing. Above the clash of steel he heard the sharp sound of a hunting horn and glancing back he saw the Prince and his men trapped near the gate. For a moment he wondered what Prince Oden was doing, but then he was the movement of troops in the west of the city. Quickly gathering his remaining soldiers around him he slowly backed along the wall towards the ladders. Captain Darold's archers outside the city had the remaining enemy pinned down on the walls near the castle, so his men had little trouble making their way back to the gates.
Inside the city Prince Oden could see the movement of his troops along the wall towards the ladders near the gate and ordered his remaining cavalry to gather into a small wedge. When he saw General Osternord's soldiers climbing down their ladders he ordered the cavalry forward. The militia ahead of him were relatively untrained and no match for the infantry that fell on them from behind, though the open gates. Their lines soon collapsed and the Prince and his men were able to ride through the gates and out onto the plains outside the city. With General Osternord's infantry behind him the Prince began an orderly retreat towards the hilltop where the catapults were based. Behind him the battered gates were pushed shut by the remaining militia. The attack on Keidel had failed.

The storm had broken latter that night as the wounded were being tended by Kurt Warkinde and his priests. Strangely the priest himself had not been injured in the wild battle through the city, but many other had been, including the Price himself. A young priest of Kirche had tended his wound soon after the battle, so neatly not even a trace remained. It was about the only good result from this battle thought Pieter Oden as he looked over his remaining soldiers. Nearly half his cavalry and infantry had been lost, or were wounded. The wounded cavalry were likely prisoners of Alaric now as most of them had been trapped inside the city after they had lost their horses.
All told perhaps three hundred soldiers had died today, nearly a third of his force. The King had lost more he knew, with reporting putting his losses as high as five hundred. The militia were especially damaged, losing maybe three quarters of their total number in the final battle near the gates. General Osternord and his infantry had made short work of the untrained troops when they were attacked from behind in the final battle.
Things did not look good for the Prince though. He had maybe seven hundred men while reports from his spies spoke of a thousand fresh soldiers entering the city from the west, less the fifty or so he and his men had slaughtered near the west gate. Worse still this number included four hundred archers, while he was left with maybe only a hundred or so scouts, who although good soldiers where not a match for the specially trained archers.
As the Prince sat in his tent listening to the heavy rain wash down the sides of the thick material of his shelter he wondered what was his next move. This weather was not a good thing either. While Alaric the city to shelter under the Prince and his men had little or no protection against the heavy rain. Sooner or later they would all freeze to death if disease did not get them first.
The flap at the entrance to his tent was suddenly pushed aside and Kurt Warkinde walked in his arms covered with blood from tending to wounded troops.
"Well Prince we have given them a beating, but things don't look good now."
"I was just thinking the same thing Kurt. The question is what should we do now."
"There is only really one thing we can do, and that is withdraw. I think this storm is Kirche's way of saying that we must go. Alaric's force is too strong for us now we must go back to Friedlund, or perhaps even Rohrgaard and make our stand there. Then we will have the advantage with the addition of our northern army. With any luck we will be able to drive Alaric south again, but this battle is over."
"I guessed as much, but it is a pity to come so close only to fail now at the final hurdle. If only we could have attacked earlier."
"Had we done that we would have lost. Alaric was ready for us and without the Catapults we would have been unable to get into the city without heavy loses."
"I had better begin organizing the withdrawal then. The Catapults will have to go first. I don't think it likely that Alaric will come after us just yet, but if he does we don't want to lose our artillery do we."
"No my lord, I believe that Alder has already begun to organize the catapults. The question is do we withdraw to night or wait until morning."
"We had better leave now, the longer we wait the more organized Alaric will be. His troops are just fresh off the boat at the moment and they are not prepared to pursue us, but soon they will be and unless we go now they could harass us all the way to the north."
"Yes Lord, I will pass on your orders at once. I will also see if I can't get Kirche to ease off on the weather for a while. A clear sky will be much more helpful that this storm."
With that the priest left the tent and walked towards the command tent a short distance away. As he walked he could hear the groans of injured men. Many would not make it though the march he knew this, but most would survive, thanks mainly to the spells of his priests.

King Alaric watched quietly as the remaining enemy soldiers broke camp and began to pack up their tents and weapons. The clouds were already beginning to clear from the darkened skies above the city and as the moon shone down on the plains to the east he could see a long line of flickering torches snaking their way to the north. A rumbling sound from that direction signalled the position of the enemy catapults as they slowly moved towards the border. He frowned at the thought of the massive enemy war machines. He had nothing like that in his army and would have to order some built if he was to march on Rohrgaard. That province was heavily protected by the citadel in Oden, a fortress that had never fallen to an invader in its long history.
From the east gates came the sound of hammering as workmen laboured through the night to erect a barrier where the wall had collapsed. It would not be needed anymore now that Oden was retreating, but it was better that the work started now. The repairs would be expensive, but the church of Haelyn had promised to help out with that. At least Oden was defeated now and once his army was ready the King would sweep north and drive the upstart Prince all the way back to his city and bring its walls down around him. He had won a great victory here today he though, despite the losses and soon all of Rohrmarch would be back under his control.

[Raesene Andu]

Coming Soon
Chapter 5 (The Retreat from Friedlund)
Chapter 6 (Rumours and Threats)
Chapter 7 (The enemy approaches)
Chapter 8 (The Gorgon Strikes)
Chapter 9 (The Fall of Osternord)
Chapter 10 (Counter Attack at Osternord)
Chapter 11 (Retreat to the Citadel)
Chapter 12 (The Fall of Oden)
Chapter 13 (Defeat?)