The Guard

[Mako Torriblaidd]

The drum were deafening, the syncopatic beat almost maddening. It was all a game to the few hundred strong vanguard. The west Roman auxilleries were like children, advancing in well made lines. He could smell their piss from here. They had to march in open country, under the beating sun. It brought a smile to the half blind man's features as he took another long swig of the arabian wine. Drier than his native mead, but it did the job. His men stood beneath wide tarps, simply resting as armour was lazily donned. The enemy's onagers were still out of range, the horses and oxen used to drag them tiring in the heat.

"Pathetic," Muttered Bledir as he lifted his shield, thick oak, studded in steel and wrapped in shining bronze, a figure of Jormungdr painted menacingly around the outside. The other men chuckled, talking amongst themselves as the creak of wood announced that the enemy missles would soon be in range. Ballistas and scorpions were being moved out from beneath the coverings. The sounds of rope and sinew being strained was like music to his ears. "So it begins..." He muttered mirthfully. Rolling his shoulders he began to walk, others following in loose formation. It was all a show, heavily armoured men, shining chainmaille and plate. Their laughter beginning to rise as the beat grew harder. Feral eyes hidden behind nasal helms. The slow meadering walk broke into a run across the line, shields raising to protect heads as arrows were loosed in fear of the oncomming horde. Outnumbered nearly five to one, heh, it may as well been one to one hundred as the stink of human fear rose into the hot air.

 

[Ty Lee]

Among the men, one would find a woman - though she wasn't like any woman before her. The way she grasped the battle axe within a single hand was proof enough, but her thick wooden shield was to stand with the best of them. "I'm going to have fun, being soaked in all of their rich, but useless blood..." She spoke grimly, chuckling heartily as the men around her did so as well. They didn't have to trust her, they simply took her on due to her sheer skill with a sharp weapon. The drums continued besting, the fear rising and the tensions too.

They kept their march, slow and steady, the arrows battering shields which would never be broken by such silly contraptions. The sound of metal beating against shield was enough to show the Romans who they were messing with, warriors of a different kind. One might've hoped that they would just turn tail and retreat, but that wouldn't be much fun, now would it?

 

[Mako Torriblaidd]

The berserkers hit first. Near naked and their bodies covered in intricate blue lines of woad, it sent ripples through the lines as men, wood, and steel shattered under the impact of flesh. Limbs and blood flying almost comically as the warriors hacked away with axe and longsword.

The other Guard had to be a bit more clever in breaking the organized and tight line of Romans. Bledir dropped to the ground mere feet from the front of the line, a javelin barely missing his head. He rolled as he hit, bringing his feet back behind him like a cat about to lunge before he lauched himself into the base of a shield, sending it crooked as an axe followed up into the sudden opening, killing the man. The first method of fighting a disciplined line was to break it.

He rose, jabbing with his shield, the impact separating ribs while his sword found it's way under a man's arm, coming out just ahead of his collarbone. With a sickening slice he withdrew as others began to pierce the line. Arterial blood began to spray all around, the stink of fear, piss, and the iron of hemoglobin rising to an intoxicating high as the first line began to cry out, the scream of a mortally wounded beast.

 

[Ty Lee]

Luckily for Enyo, the first line had already broken within the blink of an eye. Her raging eyes soon widened, as she found an opening to tear down the barriers which the second line gave. As they approached, the Romans readied a deadly row of javelins, to take out as many of the wretched bastards before them as possible. Though, this was where the small throwing hatchet came into play.

As the back row rose up and the front row defended, the javelin throwers were left wide open, a fling here, a throw there, and most of them had been cut down with haste, hatchet either killing them or injuring them gravely. With the back row sheared down, the Guard advanced. They stormed at the Romans, just about trampling them as shield met shield, and sharp blade met flesh. The warrior woman let out a battle cry as she jumped and kicked into the shield of the remaining Roman, sending him staggering back and shocked by the hit, before her battle axe sunk deep into his helmeted skull, the crush making her grin with fury.

For now, they had but eight lines to go, before they broke through this rank. Arrows soon rained down once more, and while a few Guards were caught, well, offguard, the majority managed to block out the deathly rain with shields thicker than the the Romans would ever hold.

 

[Mako Torriblaidd]

The crows would see the mockery of formations from above. Sharp pierces in the relative rectangle of the men, deep gouges that split, allowing warriors in behind the front. It was a free-for-all, somewhere the Nords excelled. Spinning and stabbing round shields broke through the large ovals and older rectangular ones. The back line already began to flee, cries of flight coming across the line. Thousands were broken by hundreds, only those in the very back were lucky enough to flee unmolested.

Bledir was already growing sober, faster as he slaughtered his way along the line, cutting off the fore from the support of the rear. Well aimed scorpions began to cut them down, punching through their shields like paper. He was bloodsoaked, beard dyed red, armour coated in thick coagulations. "Woman!" He called to Enyo, one of the few maidens in the guard. He was fighting towards her, "How many?" A wide grin lay on his face as he crushed a forehead with a sharp punch with the edge of his shield.