Tyrion began to pen the events of The Massacre of Trinsic for posterity, "The duplicitous nature of the leaders within the rookery of the Deceit Abbey can never be forgotten." Tyrion appreciated the ring of Deceit Abbey in preference (to Empath Abbey). "Personal guarantees were made from both Zabren and Daren and they had back-stabbed us." Tyrion shook his head disgusted. "To think, I once considered Daren the equivalent of kin, a lost Brother in need of pedagogy. Heretic he may be, but, he was not a 'bad person' just disillusioned. One in need of Esuna's incandescence." He thumbed through the reports that were salvaged. Dabbing the tip of the quill into the ink well, he began to scribe:
The first hour, The Siege of Trinsic, as Tyrion had come to colloquially refer to it, in the positive, had been a seamless operation with the Imperium and Her allies establishing and maintaining total control of the city and it's surrounding territory. The attack had been surgical. The speed in which the Imperium attacked supplanted the garrison and any possibility of maintaining resistance. The second hour of the siege, any troop reinforcements that marched towards the city never made it within sight of the walls. Those accosted soldiers were offered a choice, "bend the knee or face the executioners axe." Some, too proud to submit were cut down shortly after the overture had been made as they drew swords and engaged immediately in melee combat and subsequently became food for the carrion birds.
On the third hour, all caravans into and out of the city were denied entry or exit. All troop movements in the region were harassed consistently. Upon the fourth hour, a detachment of Imperial Officers with a cadre of loyal retainers were given orders to launch a raid into Britain, the capital of the Lords of British, the temple of Winchester and the de facto headquarters for the men in the white coats. There could be no doubt, that the swiftness of their foray crippled the possibility for any immediate response. The interesting details of this attack are many. Officers of those whom wear the white coats were present during the attack, yet, few would engage the Imperial invaders openly in combat. One account noted Zarek Sanchez, the current leader of the whitecoats in a house refusing to leave or defend the city. Such acts of cowardice were quite common in past encounters with other leaders of the white walkers but more importantly, it was understood that Zarek was no fool. There are references in the reports gathered that he may have been at that very instance attempting to communicate with the followers of Gaea, in an attempt to secure their loyalty under threat of isolation. These reports are unconfirmed.
On the fifth hour, orders were issued: lay interdiction, blessed and negation stones within the city limits and fifty, one hundred and two hundred paces out from the walls of Trinsic, respectively. Five hours passed and the leaders of the Imperium had began to hear rumors that the white walkers had been stirring. The reports were not favorable and if in fact they were true, the cowardly men in white were rallying the support of the brown coats to do their bidding. The scouts had confirmed sightings of brown and white coats mustering. By the end of the eleventh hour the combined host of the Order of Nature and Order of Law had marched, breached skirmish lines and were within sight of the city. Tyrion decided to insert logical observations at this point due to the opaqueness of the details that filtered out from the parley. The Nature leaders laid out simple terms: renounce the alliance with the members of their enemies: Ancient Powers. "Curious that no follow-up scenarios were presented by these avatars of neutrality, I must say. Orin, previous Head Priest of the Order of Law, and one with whom the Peace Accords had been signed, once told me that a request followed by good intentions were an indicator of sincerity. A demand followed by a demand equated to a threat and ultimately meant nothing within the room of diplomacy. And yet, all the claims by Zabren and Daren to remain neutral and avoid conflict were empty words. The alliance with Ancient Powers had gone public two-weeks prior and the not one word from Deceit Abbey had risen. There had been no follow-up to their terms nor had they offered anything in return. Their presence and intentions were abundantly clear to those in the Imperium and honor demanded retribution."
The twelfth hour was the bloodiest. The men of the forest and the white walkers attacked viciously and without mercy. They had attacked head-on casting their despicable rites and moving their lines effortlessly. The tide that washed over the Imperium and Her allies was indomitable. A first hand account by surviving Officers of the massacre had been graphic and detailed but more importantly coalesced with the flow of events.
"We're backed against a wall at the moment Brothers," Alaric stated. "We are being hemmed in on all sides and there seems to be no stopping their advance." Maven put in, "we MUST hold the line for a bit longer! We cannot allow those perfidious curs to snatch victory from the jaws of defeat. Gather what men you have left and we will make a final assault!" William and Kerbal had summoned the remaining troops they had under their command. The objective was clear, they knew the costs of failure and they would lay their lives on the line rather than subject themselves to repeating the history of their forefathers. With steely eyed stares, they formed up their troops and took their positions. "Kerbal's men assisted by William's will form the vanguard of our thrust!" Ondoher stated decisively. I will lead a small group of our best men and attempt to flank them. The rest of our forces would be best served by holding the center and pushing out in full strength to the left flank of their current position. Timing will be essential, the attacks must occur at once or we will lose the momentum." A runner had come up to Ondoher as he was directing troops with Maven and informed him of the grave news. "They're pressing!!" Maven exclaimed direly. "Launch the attack, NOW!" Ondoher went to his position and fiery of the battlefield became self-evident. The whitecoats supported by the brown coats had penetrated the center and the Knight Commanders were executing a tactical retreat. The reverse echelon movement was the last effort Kerbal and William could provide. More importantly, the flanking force that would have enveloped the enemies center were forced to reinforce the Imperials center and were ultimately a non-factor in the counter attack.
"We may not live to see another day! But we will bring as many of these double-dealing bastards down with us as possible! Every one of you is worth ten of them! Make them remember the cost of backstabbing the Imperium!" A roar erupted from their lines and the forces under the Knight Commanders leadership edged forward. The momentum shift was short-lived. William responded with a grunt of approval and slammed his maul into the ribcage of one brown coat, flipped it over and backhanded the face of another. The crunch of bone breaking signaled a critical hit. Another brown coat stepped forward to challenge him and was met with a repetitive onslaught of blows upon his armor that stunned and opened up a sweeping low strike that lifted the helpless naturalist off his feet and onto his back. The final blow came forcefully down upon the mans chest, caving it in and opening him up. Blood gurgled forth from the body and life left him. William grinned, satisfied at his handiwork and turned to search for another opponent when he heard words of power being chanted and magic filled the air, a crack of thunder was heard, but not seen, in front of him and a hammer flew across the center of the blood soaked streets and hammered William in the chest. William let lose a battle cry, "BLOODY CRAVENS!" and transfixed his attention on the caster and slowly began to slog through the corpse ridden avenue. The armor held, luckily and William retained his composure from the first assault but the next three cracks of thunder streaked towards him and knocked him down. "William!" Kerbal made his way over to his fallen comrade and lifted him up with one arm and slowly made his way back from the front lines with a dazed and confused but clinging to life William in tow. Without the leadership of their officers, the line crumbled and they were enveloped.
Ondoher had fared slightly better in maneuvering his forces into a favorable attack position but the attempt appeared to have been ultimately a delaying tactic, he realized. They were losing. He wouldn't allow the distraction to play tricks on his course. He would lead these men to victory or die trying. "Remember your training and you will not be defeated! Fight like Esuna has possessed you with the strength of ten men and you will live on forever in Her realm for ages upon counting! For Imperial, for Esuna, for victory!" Ondoher lead his men into the flank of the forces that had pierced through the vanguard. It was a blood ridden affair. "Mendacious Natureling! Burn in the depths of hell!" Ondoher split the head of one enemy, two, three, four, five, ten, fifteen, twenty and then he lost count. He looked around him and found that he was among a copse of corpses. The bodies were stacked two or three high. He struggled to find a man from his attack that had survived. The enemies in his immediate area had been summarily defeated but he could hear the footsteps of more approaching. He estimated a dozen or more. He checked the pulses of the men that had followed him into battle and found that none had survived. It was forlorn hope he realized. He had killed as many as he could but realized his death would serve no purpose. Head in his hands, he knelt on the floor sobbing over the corpse of one of his Brothers and began to chant words of power. He disappeared shortly after.
Maven and Alaric were all that remained. "Fall back men, across the bridge!" Alaric had covered Kerbal while he retreated with a fallen ally. He was quickly being consumed by enemies to his center, left and right and very soon, rear. What remained of their forces were pitiful indeed. Maven had ordered the wounded across the bridge first and ushered them to safety as quickly as possible. He was growing exhausted. The responsibilities were taxing and he knew he wouldn't be able to go on much longer. "I have to last a bit longer," he told himself. The wounded were almost completely removed from the battlefield now. He summoned a magic gate with little effort, then summoned ten more. His work was not as demanding as martial combat but the pool of energy he had to draw upon for what he needed to do, was quickly evaporating. Alaric was holding the line on his own at this point. Maven summoned words of power and targeted an area dangerously close to Alaric, "Fall back Alaric, now!" Maven completed his chant and the air around them became filled with the bolts of lightening streaking across the sky. Several enemies were stopped in their tracks and Alaric was able to escape a harrowing situation. He quickly stepped through the orange rift. Maven decided he had one last card to play, he focused all the remaining alacrity reserves that remained and began the invocation of a powerful rite. The enemy surged forth and his personal guard was quickly being cut down around him. He refused to allow his concentration to be broken and was upon the final syllabus of the rite when one of his guards, reeling from a critical hit and unable to control his death spasms flopped onto Maven. The rite lost its semblance and dissipated. To make matters worse he was trapped underneath the body of a plated knight, "curses!" The clang of steel on steel had diminished some but with the immediate are removed of enemies, the remaining foes moved to other parts of the city were brave Imperial souls were fighting to the bitter end. Suddenly, Alaric emerged from the orange portal and lifted the knight off of Maven. He offered Maven assistance and grabbed Mavens outstretched hand, a grip was established and he lifted Maven up. "It's time to go," Alaric stated, defeated. Maven only nodded. "They will pay for this act of iniquitous behavior, but at the moment, we must be away." They both stepped through the orange hole and it collapsed thereafter.
Tyrion finished the previous paragraph with a heavy heart. As usual with accounting events of history, footnotes would be added for future readers to fill-in as the answers may present themselves in time. The Massacre of Trinsic, which Tyrion had come to colloquially refer to this event, in the negative, had apparent implications: first, that the deception initiated by the brown coats would imply a definitive shift in their politics. They had known for weeks of the alliance and had not made their position clear on the establishment of this alliance; two, the speed with which the white walkers were able to enlist their assistance leads to the assumption that closer ties existed than may have previously been understood. Tyrion stopped scribing and considered the last sentence more. "If the men whom wear white, could have pressured the men whom wear brown so effortlessly, who is really the leader of the naturalists?" He decided he would allow future generations to fill in the blanks.
A Cup Runn'eth Over
Moderator: RP Moderators
Maturation of the Conflict
Maturity: the phase at which the war had advanced too. Both alliances had matured their tactics, techniques and procedures, so much so, that they could be considered equal, balanced even, but that word was an unacceptable term to apply for Tyrion. The handicap afforded their enemies from a nearly indomitable god, Winchester, and a supporting goddess, Gaea, left the alliance between Esuna and Dennac a comparably weaker spectacle to behold. The blessings Winchester had bestowed, afforded their enemies plentiful advantages on the field of battle, even more so, with the support of those that donned the brown coat. Yet, the board favored Esuna and Her allies, that is to say, in relation to assets, battles fought and acquired materiel. Fresh off a victory in Trinsic, which had become known as the Massacre of Trinsic, the combined forces of the Whitecoats saw fit too occupy the island city of Ocllo. Victory was short lived however as the forces of the Imperium rallied to reclaim it's land and thanks in no small part to the valiant and extra effort displayed by Knight Commanders Kerbal Longbeard and William Sinclair. Skara Brae was the first and then Minoc fell, the week after.
Tyrion thought for a moment. "What is it, regardless of the odds, that gives us any semblance of an edge?" He allowed the question to aerate. "Perhaps, the righteous path has been set before us. . . one mandated from Esuna. ." There was credibility tied to the thought. "If this is the case, we will need an over-arching strategy that will govern the policy direction of Imperial now and into the future."
Tyrion thought for a moment. "What is it, regardless of the odds, that gives us any semblance of an edge?" He allowed the question to aerate. "Perhaps, the righteous path has been set before us. . . one mandated from Esuna. ." There was credibility tied to the thought. "If this is the case, we will need an over-arching strategy that will govern the policy direction of Imperial now and into the future."
Imperialism?
Having toyed with different names for the policy, he had coined one recently, the Grand Imperial Strategem. He liked it moreso than the others but still had not found one that struck his fancy. He crinkled his nose and stated, "It does not have the 'ring' I'm looking for but will suffice for now." The correlative meaning would have to embody the principle ideals of the Imperium and reflect the dark night of the soul. "The metamorphosis has not been pretty, but there is still work to be done. One step at a time." He massaged the stubble of hair on his chin. The barbers work was precise; sharp cuts made in places needed to do away with excess. The brief moment of navel gazing provided the spark he needed. "Realistically, obtaining it all is improbable, yet, surprisingly not impossible. Devising a strategy for taking the rest wasn't going to be the problem. It would be the opposite almost entirely." There would be factors to consider into the Grand Imperial equation. The nature of the Imperium was undeniable and titled towards a strategy favoring Imperialism. "Imperialism? What a strange notion. ."