Age of the Seven Kings, 3rd Moonstone 201
Two large armies met at the vast grasslands of the Elderberry village.
One army comprised mostly of pale men and women, their hair as black as the crow's feathers, brass star on the front of their belts.
The other army full of stout people with a healthy tan, hazel eyes and short, curly, chocolate hair, their necks and wrists adorned with golden and silver jewelry.
They were friends once, those two nations, but not anymore.
"Rhyslings!" The King of the pale men began marching in front of his troops, his mighty sword clinking at his belts. "Look over the field, whom do you see? These are Rutes, our enemies! How blind where we, buying grain and wine to feed the mouths of our people, while they taxed us so mightily and so cruelly! While we were cringing from starvation and poverty in our northern homesteads, the fat pigs were living happily on our gold and silver, laughing at the faces of our crying children!"
"But no more, I say! We all have seen and learned about their foul machinations! The proud people of Rhys will never again be exploited like that! Never again we shall look at the wondrous gifts of our so-called friends without checking how dirty their hands are! Rhyslings! Today, we will avenge our children, our wives and grandfathers, and we will leave no Rute alive!" A singular scream of anger and excitement burst from the army in the north.
The other army had it's commander as well, the High Tactician, Nyson Bores himself. He, too, adressed his troops:
"My fellow Rutes! Look over the field, and tell me, whom do you see? Yes, Rhyslings! Our former friends, now, a band of traitors and murderers! They accuse us of high taxation and exploitation! While I will say: Madness! The High Council never raised the taxes above average, they were even lower than that! The Rhyslings claim we had outrageously high prices for grain and wine, but this is not true! We're selling grain to Naylandis and Freyes and ten other nations, and they never complained of the prices, and they were willing to pay twice more than Rhyslings! And what we get in exchange for our kindess? Betrayal!"
"My Rute brothers and sisters! Today, we will fight in defense of our homeland! Today, we will beat those treacherous, dishonorable, murderous Rhyslings, and drive them back to their snowy mountains, and let them starve like we should back then, one hundred years ago, when our glorious ancestor, Mark Vyrmlan shook hand of their King! For Rute!" The crowd od similarily-looking southerners cheered on the speech.
The two armies began marching, and then running toward each other, their commanders preparing for a fight to the death. Five seconds passed, ten, then fifteen; and the armies clashed with each other, in cacophony of clangs, screams, explosions and shouts.
Slaughter objective:
Side A: The Rhyslings
Kill at least 20 Rutes: 0/20
Bonus: Kill at least 5 Rute Commanders: 1/5
Side B: The Rutes
Kill at least 20 Rhyslings: 0/20
Bonus: Kill at least 5 Rhysling Commanders: 0/5
The Bonus objective will be counted in the event of both sides reaching the 20 'frag' count. For example, if Side A kills 21 soldiers and 4 commanders, while Side B kills 20 soldiers and 6 commanders, Side B will win, because Side B fulfilled both objectives.
However, the 'soldier' kill count takes priority; for example, if Side A kills 19 soldiers and 7 commanders, while Side B kills 20 soldiers and 4 commanders, Side B will win.
Poll
Author
Topic: Medieval Fodder Simple-RTD! (v1.2): It has begun! Let da bodies' hit da floor~ (Read 8684 times)