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The sun was bright and warm. The green vale stretched out before Auriëlle. It’s slope down was gentle. In the distance she saw all sorts of tiny life run around. Behind her the camp was being raised. They had just entered the land of the southern village alliance. It would take at least a day before any scout would find them and report back. Then it would take another three days for them to properly gather their armies and finally one more day to march here. The moment she realized that, the peaceful image before her became eerie and wrong. Auriëlle could swear that there was a smell of storm on the winds. Even though she knew well enough that it was her imagination. Still, in five days the green, tranquil vale would be drenched in blood and ash.

She turned away from the sight and made her way towards the central tent. Where her advisors had gathered for the first time. As she walked, she wondered what sorts of men they would be. Because they would be men. Always. That would be the first challenge: to be taken seriously as a woman. Then they would try to tell her how to wage her war. What positions to take. What preparations to make. Some of it would make sense. Some of it would be condescending. None of it would fully account for who, or what, she actually was. Still, she would listen.

So with a gentle, endearing smile she walked into the tent and approached the table. “Talk to me.” 

The men who had been chatting amongst themselves and laughing lightly all gazed upon Auriëlle. Some with disdain, others with hardened looks, as if to intimidate her. No one said anything for a few moments and then a man with grey in his beard and sharp blue eyes spoke up in a gruff voice. "Our Queen spoke highly of you… Auriëlle, was it? But some words never really proved much behind the cleverness of the tongue, if you catch my meaning. We have bled with the Queen, but not you. You, we know only stories of. So tell me girl, when you look a man in the eyes upon the field of battle, what do you see?"

She turned towards whoever spoke. Good, the strongest of the group revealed himself. A small smile formed on her lips. “Nothing important.” She let the answer hang in the air for a moment. “Now I’m betting you, with your clever tongue, wanted some poetic answer like ‘fire’ or ‘hatred’ or ‘desperation’.” Because that was the man she knew he was. A man of glory and long marches. A man of loyalty who suffered for his queen and had to frame that. That’s the only reason someone his age still wielded a sword. “The fact is I see nothing that matters in their eyes. That probably offends you and whatever old warrior tradition you believe in. I don’t care. We’re not in Nallan and we don’t need to dance.”

Her attention shifted towards those behind the veteran now. Time to swallow her pride. “Now someone tell me about our army. How many spears. How many shields. How many arrows.” She began to walk around the tent. Locking eyes with every veteran around. “I also need to know who I’m going up against. How many men they have. Who are these chieftains who banded together.” She ended up in front of the table, where she had first arrived as she had entered the tent. “Help me understand this war so we may win it.” Her voice had softened now.

The grey bearded man said nothing but gave a grim nod. A short cropped man then spoke up next, "We've several dozen fighting men, carrying a spear and shield each, a handful of arrow men and a capable force of full time guardsmen. Warriors as we say."

A younger man with wavy brown hair and hazel eyes spoke next, "We know not how many men they have, only that we should assume they have more than us. They've banded together you see, to fight against our Queen's authority. She tried a peaceful negotiation to bring them into the fold first, but now she will rule them through right of conquest. Olwar is the one behind all of this, he blames Queen Nalla for the death of his father. Foolish accusations and he will be killed for his defiance."

“He will.” Auriëlle said resolutely. “First I need to know more about Olwar. What sort of a man, or boy, is he?”

The grey haired man who first spoke, looked at Auriëlle and said, "Forgive my son. He speaks without knowing." He said at first. "Olwar the Hammer Spring. They say he killed a winged demon in his youth, that he raised a Leon cub to be his mount, that he never gets wounded and that he eats the hearts of those he fells…  All rumors of course, but the man is a local legend and should not be underestimated." He said, looking to his son. The boy as it were, glanced away angrily.

Slain a demon? Raised a Leon cub? Eats the hearts of those he kills? Some were exaggerations, no doubt. Still, he sounded very formidable. The sort of person she shouldn’t allow to get close. “We won’t.” She said towards the grizzled veteran. He will think he has the upper hand. A greater army. The home advantage. With a stroke of luck he wouldn’t know about Auriëlle until he was on the battlefield.

“So what’s the plan?”

"Olwar won't stand for an army on his doorstep. He sounds more warrior then chief. I've a feeling they'll come to us." The gray bearded man said. "The Queen does not want a prolonged battle, but a quick and decisive victory. I suggest we fortify this location before they arrive." Many around the table mumbled in agreement. 

Auriëlle joined in that agreement with a single nod. Looking around the tent she wondered whether or not Carn did these things as well. Probably. And he had been a smart man to keep her out of it. Back then, she would’ve hated everyone who even opened their mouth. Now, to her own surprise, she found herself enjoying the wise council. When she’d return, maybe she could ask him if she could join any future councils. Her eyes fell down to the table for a moment. She took a deep breath. Just a year and then she could go back to him. Gods she was starting to miss him.

“Alright.” She said, gathering her thoughts again. “We reinforce our position. I don’t want to be caught unaware so keep the scouts patrolling. Get to your tasks, men.” The old man would’ve said the same things as she had. The problem was that, even though they were allies, she couldn’t let him. She was the commander now.

Most of the council exited the tent in brisk jogs, calling for others and barking orders. In the quiet of the tent however the old man and his son remained.  "Auriëlle." He said looking at her, "My name is Hyl and this is my son, Daert." Who gave her a nod if nothing more. "You'll do well, least I hope." He grunted, before exiting the tent. Daert stayed for a moment longer, before he hastily left as well. There was much to do after all.

[hr]
The sun stood high again. It hadn’t rained. For the entire day, Auriëlle had been sitting away from the camp. Watching the horizon while sunken in thoughts. She bathed in the sun’s warmth. How ironic it was, that Oraelia’s sun shone so bright right now. For a minute she wanted to taunt the sun goddess again with a mock prayer. She would laugh at her and ask her why she won’t make a choice for once, on this day. Though that want quickly vanished. There was ill luck in taunting any god on the eve of battle.

Then, somewhere around mid-afternoon, one of the scouts approached her. “Olwar has been spotted on the other side of the valley. He’ll be here in an hour.” He said. She nodded in response and marched back to the camp. Where she donned her clothes and armor. She kept her lonethrone vambrace hidden under a sleeve. Her bronze plate felt heavy and clunky. The first time she wore the chest plate she quickly realized it would hamper her movement. She preferred to be fast and agile. If the enemy got close enough that a bronze plate would come in useful, she had already failed. Still, she put it on now. Keeping the straps loose so she could toss it off in a moment's notice. So far, it would seem Olwar marched thinking he would encounter a mere army. Not sorcery.

Soon she joined her troops on the line of battle. Stakes had been dug into the ground and barricades of simple wooden logs and stones were raised as well for the archers to seek shelter in. The last of the arrows were planted in the dirt before their feet. An uneasy silence reigned upon the soon to be battlefield. Hyl was beside her, scanning the horizon with his grim eyes, spear in hand and a sword at his hip. He wore a bronze plate as well, a trophy from battle she thought. 

All was quiet before the sounds of singing became louder and louder. War chants and battle songs, meant to drive morale down and strike fear into hearts. From the sound of such voices, the enemy was many. They came from the other side of the vale, men brandishing all sorts of weapons and farming tools. Axes, spears, hoes and all sorts of other things. Most wore normal clothing but a few had leathers and shields as well. All together, it was a very rag tag army of common folk and farmers. 

They did not march in a line but rather came to a stopping point down the slope. There was no sign of Olwar but then again she had no idea what he actually looked like. That was until the army before them parted, letting through a tight formation of spearmon wearing fine leather armor and tall shields. Behind them, riding upon Stag came a dozen or so more men who came to a stop at the center of the formation. Yet no one came forth and the singing had stopped. 

"Look!" Someone cried out, pointing up into the clouds. A hushed whisper came up through the ranks, turning to fear and excitement. There coming down from the heavens was an actual Leon, carrying a man wearing black furs and a helmet of antlers. He landed before his army, Leon roaring in their direction. The man then shouted in a loud voice, "Nallan! You piss poor lads! Why have you come to die so far from home!"

Auriëlle was impressed. Though unafraid. She walked through her lines. Carefully putting her hand on every shoulder of the men she passed. “Steady men.” She said as she reached the front line. Where she stood amongst some spearmen of her own. There would be no big speech coming from her though. 

Olwar looked fierce but he was a fool. He was showing her his entire army in an effort to intimidate them. Now she needed to lure him close. “I’ve come for your mother!” She shouted back. “At least she’ll have the guts to face me while you sit on your overgrown cat!”

There came some snickering from her own lines and quiet from the others. Olwar then boomed, "Look men! It seems the Queen has sent a bitch in her place! Come on then, pup, if you want to die then so be it! Archers!" A row of men rushed forward holding bows, they knocked arrows and then loosed.

“Shields!” Auriëlle responded. At her order, those with shields raised them. Some brave sap even held his shield in front of her. Lucky for her, perhaps. As one arrow did land with a hollow thud. She kept her steely demeanor. Though inside she once again came to the realization that she had almost died. Around her, one or two had some ill fortune. They fell back with blood pouring from their wounds. Others grabbed them and dragged them away. When the arrows had fallen, the shields moved out of the way again. She wondered if she could strike him with a lightning bolt. Not yet. He had to get closer. “I’m not here to dance.” She said. He wouldn’t hear it.

“At least have the [i]fucking[/i] honor to come do the job yourself!” She spat back at him as she took a step forward. Breaking from her own front line. She now stood in front of her own men. “C’mon! I’m right here you big oaf!” She slammed her fist on her bronze chest plate. Letting the hollow metal sound echo across her line. There was pure fire in her voice. A familiar hatred boiled up in her. A hatred that brought power.

There seemed to be a heated discussion going on between Olwar and a stag rider before Olwar struck the man and then took a horn from his belt and blew. It was loud and deep and before her eyes, the enemy began to advance in rank. Shields were brought forth and a line was made, with several of the more regal looking spearmen, leading. Another volley of arrows fired as Olwar himself took to the sky upon his Leon, while the stag riders seemingly pulled back to retreat.

A faint smile appeared on Auriëlle’s lips. “Tell Hyl to keep an eye out for those stags.” She said. One of the lighter troops was dispatched to the back line. The shields were put up again. One arrow came just short of its target and fell before her feet in the ground. This time, no arrow hit the shield that was protecting her. Meanwhile she slowly loosened the leather straps of her bronze plate. When the shields were lifted again, the chest plate was off and Olwar’s army had gotten closer.

She pointed two right hand fingers at Olwar. Arcs of lightning traveled across her arm. Burning and cutting her sleeve to wisps of smoldering cloth. Then, at the last minute, she turned away from the flying menace, pointed at the frontline of spearmen and released the bolt of lightning.

Lighting arced towards them with a tremendous clap of thunder- No, the sound of an explosion, following. Men screamed in agony, others dropped dead and most immediately halted. The blow took everyone by surprise it seemed. The smell of charred skin and smoke blew back into them. Some of her men gagged as the grim reality of death set in. The enemy in the meantime, wanted no part of it and most of the farmers began to retreat, shouting as they went, "Run! Magician! The gods are against us!" 

Up above, Olwar had vanished but his more stalwart men still pressed on with angrier war cries.

“You should’ve knelt when you had the chance!” Auriëlle screamed. “Now I’ll bring you back as ash.” She pointed again, not at the front line this time. Instead she unleashed her power at the fleeing farmers. They were spread out, so one bolt wouldn’t kill as many. That wasn’t the point. Then she turned to the front line again. She lobbed a small orb of fire, which began to fall apart in a wave of flames mid-air that fell upon the enemy. “Come and march to your death!” She shouted at the army. Almost forgetting Olwar and his stag riders in her rage.

It was someone in the back who sounded the alarm. The stag riders were on a collision course on their right flank and Olwar himself led the charge. More arrows began to rain down on her position as the riders approached, brandishing hammers and clubs. Olwar wielded a bronze hammer in one hand and a staff in the other.

Auriëlle knew those damned stags would cause trouble. She stepped back into the frontline. They’d have to hold for now. Arrows kept falling like a drizzle. It didn’t matter. She grabbed one of the lighter troops by the shoulder. “Tell Hyl to take out those stags!” She shouted her order. Right then one of the arrows struck the man in the chest. She threw his corpse forward. “Do I have to win this whole goddamn battle myself?”

She pushed her way towards the right flank. Meanwhile the lines clashed. Shields were pushed against shields as both sides tried to make an opening. The right flank was already unraveling. “The first who runs I’ll kill myself!” She shouted to her own troops. Then, one stag rider noticed her and started to charge her. Auriëlle had spotted it. The rider had gotten close. Just not close enough when suddenly the earth opened up underneath him. His stag tripped. Sending the rider tumbling from his steed. “Kill him.” Auriëlle gave the order and three warriors jumped the dazed rider in an instant. Smashing his face and body with their clubs, axes and even stones found around. There would be nothing left but a bloody pulp. His steed wasn’t spared either.

Then she turned to Olwar whose Leon was wreaking havoc amongst her troops. Without hesitation she raised her arm. Arcs of lightning traveled over her arm. With a clap of thunder she unleashed the bolt at the Leon.

The Leon was hit in the center of it’s chest, it howled in pain as the lightning arced and blew Olwar off its back. He went flying in the air and landed out of sight. The Leon then took a few steps before collapsing on it’s side. It was hard to be sure if it was dead or not. 

As the strag riders ran amok, the enemies on the frontline crossed the threshold of no return. They were on their doorstep now, riddled with arrows in their shields and hatred in their eyes. They came upon the defenses and broke free, running with mad fervor at the enemies before them- Her own troops.

The right flank would collapse under the pressure. Auriëlle knew it. “Hold your ground!” She shouted as she trapped another stag rider in the ground. The Leon was at least down. Either the enemy’s moral would take a hit or it would whip them into a frenzy. Several archers were turning their attention at the stag riders. Another fell, though it took three arrows to get his stag low as well. Inside, Auriëlle knew Olwar wasn’t dead yet. “C’mon you pompous bastard. Get here so I can mount your head on a spear.” She mumbled under her breath as she prepared a bolt of fire to take out another rider.

The two forces upon the hill collided together, fighting neck in neck and blood for blood. The enemy was relentless in their charge. Fighting for home and country brought them together, made them fight strong. 

Strong. 

Olwar returned, looking as if he had barely been hurt by her blast. He waded through her troops like an unstoppable force. Each man who came to him, was battered down with his hammer until he arrived at the Leon. He howled in rage, and did something strange. He touched his Leon with the staff, and before her eyes, the creature rebounded. It lashed out at her forces and before she could get a clear shot at Olwar, he began to traverse the field, touching the staff to his broken comrades. Some rose, others did not and the fight continued on.

Nobody had told her about the staff. Nobody told her he could heal things. If she ever found Hyl, she would tear his eyes out. That was for sure. Punishment was for after a battle though. Right now, she had an incredible nuisance to kill. He had gotten close to her now as he healed his own troops. One man received the healing touch and was getting up before Olwar. He smiled, happy to be alive and fight for his tribe again. Then he turned pale. His veins became visible under his skin. He grasped at his throat as blood began to drip from his lips. He dropped down to the ground and curled up, spitting out blood as it filled his lungs up. A few meters behind him stood Auriëlle with her fist clenched and pointed at her victim. Her eyes were trained on Olwar. Fire burned in her left hand. Ready to be thrown at the hero.

Olwar grabbed the man, lifting him up as a shield. He then ran towards Auriëlle with a war cry.

He was getting closer. She threw the fire. It hit the first man. Not Olwar behind him. Auriëlle felt the panic creeping up. With every step, control slipped. She threw more fire. The back of the corpse was ablaze. Olwar didn’t stop. When he was close enough, he pushed the corpse of the man at her. Then the power came. Like an unholy savior. Uncontrolled. A wave of pure annihilation ripped from her hands. The translucent surge reduced the corpse to ash.

Olwar rolled to the right in the nick of time, but his furs caught fire and another unfortunate soul died. This did not stop him however, from hefting his hammer and throwing it at her as he used his momentum to jump back up. It hit her on the left arm. There was a nasty crack. She fell back. Her arm went limp entirely. For a second, the pain was overwhelming. It forced her to scream. Then she pushed back at it. Pain, fear, she would use it. With her right hand she reached out at Olwar, forming a half-closed fist. She poured all her vitriol, malice and pain into the hex. Slowly she clenched down. Attacking the very innards of her enemy.

His mouth twisted and his eyes went wide as he clutched his neck. Blood began to pour from his mouth and his breathing ceased. There was a panic in his eyes but acute awareness. He dropped to his knees, clutching the staff with one hand and slowly touching the tip to his chest. The change was immediate and he gasped for breath as his face curled into fury. He rose again and shambled closer to her with villainous intent. 

“Dirty… Fucking… Mage…” he breathed.

It all vanished from her hex. The malice, the hatred. It went up in smoke. How!? She released her grip. The magic vanished. As he got up, she crawled backwards over the ground. He loomed over her, and fell to his knees on top of her, throwing the staff away. “Now… You’ll die.” he said, placing his hands on her throat and squeezing. She let it happen. There was no fighting. No kicking. She just waited, with a defiant gaze, as he got close and put his fingers around her neck. But with her right hand, she tapped the ground three times.

From Olwar’s right, a beast with black fur and burning red eyes lunged at Olwar’s throat. Blood sprayed across Auriëlle’s face. Olwar screamed as the demon dog dragged him down. Auriëlle managed to get from under him. Gasping for air as the pain of her arm was growing stronger. She bit down on her teeth as she crawled at the stick. When she finally grabbed it she put the tip of it on her chest, just like Olwar had done.

In an instant the pain in her neck and arm was gone. She could even flex her fingers again! Exhausted, but happy, she managed to get up with some help of the stick. In front of her, her demon was still biting down on Olwar throat. Bone cracked. “Release him.” She said. The demon did as commanded. The hero let out a ragged gasp for air. He wasn’t dead yet. Auriëlle turned towards one of the nearby soldiers. “Axe, now!”

It took a few hits, but after the fourth Olwar’s head was removed from his shoulders. She tossed it at one of the spearmen. Who gladly put the trophy on his spear to parade with. Meanwhile she tossed the staff at another soldier. “Heal everyone you can find.” She said, out of breath but still walking towards where she heard the Leon roaring.

It took another bolt of lightning to fell the great beast. Though any of the troops around weren’t taking chances this time. The sight of their leader’s head on a spear sent most of the troops routing. Half the stag riders managed to flee as well. Auriëlle gave the order to kill as many as they could but hold position. Meanwhile behind the front line more and more of her own men she had deemed dead were up and about again. The battle was won.

The great fire roared in the night. Her soldiers were drinking and feasting. Hyl would face her rage in the morning. Tonight she allowed everyone to party. Everyone but those who pulled guard duty that night. Her bronze armor was recovered and cleaned. Though it had suffered a few dents. Scraps and pieces of the Leon’s fur hung from various posts around the camp. Ready to be tanned and used. Auriëlle remained in her tent. Inside she kept cutting her own arm and then healing it with the branch. She never felt magic. Only something more powerful. No matter how many wounds she inflicted upon herself, they always closed the moment the tip touched her. “You’re a useful tool to have in war.” She remarked with a small smirk. Though she was contemplating on keeping it herself or giving it to Nallan.

Her pondering was interrupted by a guard entering her tent. “The village chieftains are here, my lady.” The guard said. She allowed them to enter with a motion of her hand. From the dried blood and wounds, she figured some had fought in the battle. Others hadn’t. Four of the six chieftains sat down on chairs spread out on the first half of the tent. 

“My lady. We – “ One chieftain said as he motioned to the others. “ – have come to offer our surrender. You must understand. Olwar was so distraught about his father’s untimely death. Such a great tragedy. He shouldn’t have taken it out on Nallan.  We should have stopped him when he called in the ancient oaths but Tekret would have taken great offense. Surely someone as ascended and powerful as you understand, don’t you?” The whimpering desperation was palpable. This was their version of begging.

Auriëlle felt strange. She felt as if she was on the battlefield again. Lobbing fire and releasing lighting while she remained untouchable. Was this how Nalla felt? Her thoughts returned to the chieftains standing in her tents. For some time she went over his words in her own head. Making sure she fully understood all of them. She thought back to what she had said in the throne room in Nallan. ‘Kneeling men or ash.’ For all intent and purposes, she was now an extension of Nalla’s will. Was the queen merciful or just?

“I accept your gracious surrender.” Auriëlle said with a small smile. “Rejoice! Queen Nalla is just. You can gather your dead to be buried and we will not come and raze your villages.” Even though she so thoroughly wanted to burn at least one of them. As a message. Still, Nalla needs people to reign over. Not ash.

The chieftains looked delighted as they released the tension they had felt. Some of them threw small praises to the gods. Auriëlle let them enjoy themselves for a minute. Until she raised her hand to silence them. “One of you will be burned at the stake here tonight until there is nothing left but ash.” The murmur dropped. “Then the rest will be brought to kneel before Nalla.”

The four sitting chieftains shot up. Ready to shout in protest. Auriëlle was a split second ahead of them as she rose from her seat. “Sit. Down!” She yelled at them. The candles in the tent flared up. Slowly, but surely, the chieftains took their seats again. Then she continued, with a softer voice but with the same intensity in her eyes: “You think you can defy us, insult us, bleed us and then come in here expecting nothing but mercy? I’ll let you choose amongst yourselves who dies tonight.”

[hider=Summary]Nallan prepares for war. Auriëlle brought her army to her chosen battlefield. Then joins her war council where she hears about Olwar, the chieftain leading the southern village alliance. The plan is to dig in and let them come for them. Auriëlle agrees.

On the day of the battle, Auriëlle wears her bronze plate amongst her troops. Olwar comes flying down from the heavens upon his Leon and lands in front of his army to insult the Nallan soldiers. Auriëlle returns in kind. Arrows begin to fly as Olwar and his stag riders run out of sight. Auriëlle, shoots lightning at the front line. Killing a few in a single clap and sending the less disciplined militia running. Though she kills some of the routing enemies as well.

Then the stag riders and Olwar are spotted charging her right flank. She decides to take matters into her own hands and heads that way. Letting the front line clash. She drops a stag rider and then fells the Leon with a single bolt of lightning, but then Olwar reappears from the bushes and puts the tip of his staff upon the Leon. Healing it completely. The beast starts fightning again and Auriëlle focuses on Olwar. A man he healed, she kills again. Olwar uses him as a human shield to block her firebolts. Auriëlle cannot manage to hit Olwar, who throws the corpse at her. In panic, she releases a wave of annihilation. Destroying the corpse. Olwar manages to dodge it and throws his hammer. Hitting and breaking her left arm. She falls on the ground. The pain she feels she uses to cast a hex and destroy Olwar’s insides. However he manages to heal himself again with the tip of the stick. Auriëlle, still on the ground, begins to crawl forward. Olwar looms over her and puts his hand on her neck to choke her out.

When Auriëlle gives the signal, a demon dog jumps up and bites down on Olwar’s neck. Blood spurts every. Auriëlle manages to get free and crawls to the staff. Which she uses to heal herself. Then she cuts off Olwar’s head and makes it her trophy.

Some people escaped but the Leon was slain. Nallan is victorious. That night the village chieftains come to offer their surrender. Auriëlle accepts it and assures them their villages are safe. However she demands one chieftain to be burned at the stake so she can bring his ashes. The others will also come to swear loyalty to Nalla.[/hider]

[hider=Prestige]
[b]Post Length:[/b] +10K Characters
+5 Prestige >> Auriëlle
- 3 Prestige >> Auriëlle: Annihilation spell
- 3 Prestige >> Auriëlle: Hexing Olwar
- 10 Prestige >> Give Auriëlle the Heliah title
+5 Prestige >> Oaken Branch
[/hider]