F
- Fedaykin -
Guest
the wind howled through the trees like a wolf crying into the cold nights air, the first rays of light were starting to creep over the tall evergreen canopies of Forest Sauvage, however in he distance the heat of battle was warming the day.
“They’re here! Let your arrows fly swiftly into them!” called a guard, raising his longbow and firing swift arrows into the savage assailants. Lord Erasleigh surveyed the scene, the vile heathens of Midgard beat upon his the keep doors like waves crashing upon the shore, cold hearted but powerful. Eralseigh’s men charged into battle, fighting for the glory of Albion and fighting for their king. However the omens were not good for Lord Erasleigh and his men, Runes of Odin filled the sky and spirits were summoned from the great halls of Valhalla. Around him mighty servants of Thor, the thanes, cast lightning bolts into the keep sentinals obliterating them to dust.
“What can men do against such reckless hate!?” Thought the Lord, he quickly summoned two couriers, sending one to the south to Caer Boldiam, home of his nephew, the young Lord Boldiam, and one to Caer Renaris the last Fort which stood in the path of the horde, the last place they could be stopped before they would reach Castle Excalibur.
But the sages of Midgard would not be easily deceived, many years work had but invested into this assault upon the fair land of Albion, and even as the couriers slipped out of the keep on their journey, they were stalked closely by the shadowblades of Loki. No help would find it’s way to erasleigh, no one would answer the lords call.
As huge wooden rams beat upon the gate of his keep, the Lord arrayed himself in his armour and valiantly strode to meet the horde… there would be no dawn for him.
“Brace the gates!!” yelled the master of Caer Renaris, “We cannot let this keep fall!! Help will surely be on it’s way, the Armsmen of Albion will come!!”
But it was too early for many, the watchmen of the keep had themselves been caught unawares and as such had little time to prepare the defences. However the guards paled in comparison to the mighty Berserkers who would throw themselves into a sadistic trance, annihilating all who stood between their axe and the relics of Albion. Shaman’s cast dark magic giving unearthly endurance to the fighters of Midgard who would not tire. Healers cast spells upon the guards, mesmerising them into a trance, and the skalds sung songs of battle making the spirits of the warriors soar. Caer Renaris received no aid.
But a single messenger from Renaris reached the men defending the borderkeep at forest Sauvage, and a call to arms was issued.. but who would come?
Only 17 Albions hearkened to the call of battle, only 17 albions against the ensuing tide. 17 against 200.. the frontier of Albion crumbled into dust, its relics stolen, its castles desecrated and a strength of Albion was carried away to the harsh snowy land of Midgard, there to remain..
But with the loss of strength arose a new power…. a sleeping giant…. a force which could not be contained.. an army who lusted for revenge, who vowed never to be caught unawares again, who pledged their lives to avenging the hate which their enemies had caused..
Who will rise to the challenge? Who will answer the call to arms? Who will see the black blood of Midgard spilled upon the desolate snows of their land..
Albion will never yield, Albion will never fade… Albion must Unite or Die
“They’re here! Let your arrows fly swiftly into them!” called a guard, raising his longbow and firing swift arrows into the savage assailants. Lord Erasleigh surveyed the scene, the vile heathens of Midgard beat upon his the keep doors like waves crashing upon the shore, cold hearted but powerful. Eralseigh’s men charged into battle, fighting for the glory of Albion and fighting for their king. However the omens were not good for Lord Erasleigh and his men, Runes of Odin filled the sky and spirits were summoned from the great halls of Valhalla. Around him mighty servants of Thor, the thanes, cast lightning bolts into the keep sentinals obliterating them to dust.
“What can men do against such reckless hate!?” Thought the Lord, he quickly summoned two couriers, sending one to the south to Caer Boldiam, home of his nephew, the young Lord Boldiam, and one to Caer Renaris the last Fort which stood in the path of the horde, the last place they could be stopped before they would reach Castle Excalibur.
But the sages of Midgard would not be easily deceived, many years work had but invested into this assault upon the fair land of Albion, and even as the couriers slipped out of the keep on their journey, they were stalked closely by the shadowblades of Loki. No help would find it’s way to erasleigh, no one would answer the lords call.
As huge wooden rams beat upon the gate of his keep, the Lord arrayed himself in his armour and valiantly strode to meet the horde… there would be no dawn for him.
“Brace the gates!!” yelled the master of Caer Renaris, “We cannot let this keep fall!! Help will surely be on it’s way, the Armsmen of Albion will come!!”
But it was too early for many, the watchmen of the keep had themselves been caught unawares and as such had little time to prepare the defences. However the guards paled in comparison to the mighty Berserkers who would throw themselves into a sadistic trance, annihilating all who stood between their axe and the relics of Albion. Shaman’s cast dark magic giving unearthly endurance to the fighters of Midgard who would not tire. Healers cast spells upon the guards, mesmerising them into a trance, and the skalds sung songs of battle making the spirits of the warriors soar. Caer Renaris received no aid.
But a single messenger from Renaris reached the men defending the borderkeep at forest Sauvage, and a call to arms was issued.. but who would come?
Only 17 Albions hearkened to the call of battle, only 17 albions against the ensuing tide. 17 against 200.. the frontier of Albion crumbled into dust, its relics stolen, its castles desecrated and a strength of Albion was carried away to the harsh snowy land of Midgard, there to remain..
But with the loss of strength arose a new power…. a sleeping giant…. a force which could not be contained.. an army who lusted for revenge, who vowed never to be caught unawares again, who pledged their lives to avenging the hate which their enemies had caused..
Who will rise to the challenge? Who will answer the call to arms? Who will see the black blood of Midgard spilled upon the desolate snows of their land..
Albion will never yield, Albion will never fade… Albion must Unite or Die
