[center][hider][img]https://vignette.wikia.nocookie.net/divinus-mk4/images/c/c9/Logo.png[/img][/hider] [h2]Enmity[/h2][/center][hr] The departure of the retinue was a flurry of activity; throngs of masked men scurried to and fro, provisioning for their journey and saying goodbye to those who would remain. When the last of the food had been packed, the last whetstone put to storage, Tiamat’s men swelled to a particularly dry patch of the coastal bog, for final inspection. The prince did a count, surveying the heads arrayed before him. When he finally spoke, he said, “With us marches a hundred-fifty Yari, another sixty free blades of the clans, two-hundred-fifty for support, and a mix of other men numbering about thirty.” Tiamat, with a satisfied nod, responded back, “We have a long journey ahead,” before she turned to the assembled crowd, raising her voice as she spoke to all in sight, “Before us is a march that will span half the continent. We will face threats none of you have ever before laid eyes upon, and the lands and weathers you traverse will be at once unfamiliar and dangerous. Yet, this land is not without its wonders, and we shall also see awe-inspiring sights, vistas unimaginable, and civilizations foreign.” She paused, letting her words sink in before continuing, “The journey will be hard, yes, but it will not be without its rewards. You will be traveling further than any Reshut has travelled before. When you return to these shores, and sail across to your homeland, you will do so as great heroes! Your names shall become common knowledge, and you will not want for the tales you have to tell.” Then, she wrapped up her speech, “The clans eagerly watch our travels, and wish for our success. You are the finest men the Reshut have to offer. Before you stands the opportunity your ancestors and your future children alike will only dream of. Let us depart in good spirit, to the lands that lay beyond.” A mingled cheer of anticipation went up among the crowd. When Tiamat beckoned them to follow, they went in good order, into the swamplands. The coast faded away, swallowing the ship that bore them as they ventured westward. [hr][center]Several Days Later[/center][/hr] The group was deep into the swampland, morning light filtering through the drooping branches of wetland trees. In the camp, there was motion, as men broke tents and scuffed out fireplaces. They would be continuing on soon, but whispers from the quartermasters had reached the Prince’s ears. He moved to confide in Tiamat, saying, “We have gone through our rations more quickly than expected; at this rate, we won’t be out of the swamp before we are out of food.” Tiamat considered the issue, answering, “I had not considered this. Though it may slow our pace, we need to begin foraging. I want groups sent out to find foragables, and return them to bolster our supplies.” The Prince asked back, “A temporary measure, or shall we do this until further notice?” Tiamat gestured aimlessly, saying, “For as long as we are travelling. Forageables should make up the bulk of our diet, with our preserved supplies only there to fill in gaps. This is how you travel sustainably.” He nodded, calling to the quartermasters and passing on the instructions. Ten men a group went out, searching the surroundings for edibles. They brought back many common edibles, but one group’s find was of particular interest. A single berry had sated the hunger of an entire man, and it showed no indication of stopping. Word of the berries spread throughout the camp, and soon groups were hunting specifically for the berries, bringing them back by the sackful. The retinue regained its good spirits and travel resumed apace. Then, one night came when the first fright of the journey occurred. With a groggy massage around the edges of his mask, Ginyu Hachimana tried to rub away the sleep leftover in his system upon waking up. Hard pulls straightened out the folds in his robes and a tight grip about the shaft of his spear kept his balance from appearing to struggle - still, it was no secret that he had been sleeping poorly. Stepping over bog and puddle - occasionally stepping in some, too - he headed towards the rock in the middle of the wetlands upon which they had placed a sentry post. He rolled his neck around with a gentle snap and spoke, “Hey, Furada! Shift change.” The rock, however, didn’t seem to respond. Hachimana groaned deeply and approached further. “Wow, alright, falling asleep during watch is as low as it can get, you damned fool. The daimyo will have your--” As he turned the corner on the rock, he choked a gasp and dropped his spear. There, visible even in the darkness, laid the scattered remains of Furada spread within an area of several square metres. Hachimana stepped back slowly, his body so busy steadying his panicked breathing that he forgot to pick up his spear. His eyes darted in every direction and his gait hastened even further. Before he knew it, he was running back to camp. “WE’RE UNDER ATTACK! FURADA’S BEEN-- GAH!” A rusty dagger pierces straight through his neck and out through the mouth and mask. He was breathing his last before he hit the ground. Behind him, horned shadows with six limbs made their accelerating approach, slow at first as though to test whether their cover had been blown, then faster and faster to the sound of mustering warriors in the camp. They screamed their vile screeches and growled with guttural fury as they descended upon the Reshut. The prince’s voice echoed through the camp, hoarse and tense, “Enemies in the treeline! Form square! Four-man deep!” He pointed his blade at the middle of the camp, further shouting, “Crossbows in the inner ring of the square! Blades in the center!” Tiamat, for her part, had taken up the sword and made her way to the center, having fitted a plate of bronze over her chest. She let the Prince take command as she focused on ensuring she was in position. The retinue, well-drilled for the possibility, formed rapidly, though not necessarily fully equipped, as many were forced to abandon armoring to ensure they could reach the formation in time for the attack to hit. The Yari were brought downwards, a three-thick wall of pike heads to force the encroaching enemy back, with the fourth row in opportunity range once the initial walls had been passed. The enemy fought like nothing the Reshut had seen before, however: Where normal limbs should have limits do the number of directions they could twist, these monsters seemed to throw rigidness to the wind, their flexible joints allowing them to nearly snake their way between, over and under the weak spots in the spear wall. While four limbs kept them in balance, another two sliced at the capes and skin of the Reshut with dull weapons. Their tails whipped away what spears they could, throwing the men off balance. Then snapped the crossbow strings. The closest monsters were peppered full of bolts and killed on the spot, while those that were graced with the cover of their comrades cast themselves back out of reflex. Those that had chosen to remain near the enemy out of sheer lack of sense quickly found themselves at odds with Reshut bronze as the Yari dropped their weapons, unsheathing short blades that they hacked viciously with. The monsters who didn’t make it away in time fell swiftly. Those that did manage to escape fled back into the bog. After a minute of quiet, there came a chorus of violent growls, as the skinny, boney beasts that had attacked them were joined by three larger, bulkier specimen sporting goat horns from their wolven heads. They seemed somewhat wiser than their smaller kin, for they didn’t dare approach the yari line. Instead, they ripped large chunks of peat out of the bog and hurled them towards the frontline, their smaller kin cheering them on. The Yari pressed against each other as they saw the peat fly towards them, opening holes in the formation between tightly-packed Reshut as the peat flew groundwards -- the formation was tight to begin with, however, and not much space was freely available. Screams went up as some unfortunate Reshut were clipped by the corners of the peat, smashed groundwards with the weight of the soggy earth. With the formation spreading, the smaller kin charged forth again. One of the larger ones remained in the back as two of them also descended onto all six and charged forward. The Yari were unable to return to position, still dazed from the bombardment. The crossbowmen had hooked their strings and drawn to full, but scattered from the openings in the formation as the Iskrill shot forwards, leaving the swordsmen in the center. The smaller Iskrill danced around the swordsmen, seeking instead to jump at the crossbowmen. However, that was easier said than done, as a quick-witted shift in placement put much too many swordsmen between them and their targets for a flanking maneuver to be possible. Instead, one of the larger ones functioned as their vanguard as they tried to take on the swordsmen. “Hoshinori!” shouted one of the frontliners, and from what had been the second line came fifteen halberdiers equipped with razor sharp naginatas. They formed a phalanx and dedicated themselves to controlling that single hunter, allowing the crossbowmen time to position themselves even better. The giant Iskrill seethed its fury and tried to find an opening, but these were much more aggressive than the spearmen from earlier. It roared for its peat-throwing third companion, who dropped its handful and knuckled its way into the fray. The prince hoarsely shouted commands to the rest of the formation, bidding them to hold their ground as the swordsmen herded the Iskrill. Tiamat for her part brought herself face-to-face with the third Iskrill, parrying and striking with terrifying speed and efficiency. The crossbowmen presented, waiting for opportunities to get beads on Iskrill. It was in that moment that one of the hunters got a little too infuriated by the stalemate with the naginata and tried to circle around them. The crossbowmen didn’t hesitate and took the shot. The giant’s front was pierced by tens upon tens of bolts and staggered backwards before rolling onto its back to breathe its final breaths. The other Iskrill saw it - it was clear that the resource sunk into this attack began to outweigh the potential rewards. The naginata troop advanced, joined on the flanks by yari-men who still held onto their blades or had chosen to pick up their yaris again. The other two giants began backing off, protecting their smaller comrades as they scuttled into the darkness again. Once the attack had been beaten off, the Prince yelled out, “Tend to the wounded! Sixty men, get fully equipped and keep a picket for further attacks!” Tiamat harried the escape of the Iskrill who she had squared off with, but once it went into full retreat, she turned to survey the formation. She pointed her blade at the swordsmen who had held back the hunter from the crossbowmen, saying, “You! From what clan do you hail and what are your names?” The naginata and swordsman retainers spun around to meet her gaze and all bowed deeply. Their masks all sported patterns of blue flowers on green waves, all drawn with varying degrees of detail to designate rank and wealth. The one with the most beautiful mask raised her torso slightly higher than her companions. “Nuzami Hoshinori of the Hoshinori clan, my lady - retainers of the Hashimoto clan.” Tiamat praised them, “That was quick thinking. I’m proud to have you accompany my journey.” Hoshinori’s bow deepend. “W-we are here to do our duty, my lady.” She responded, “Indeed you are, and you did so excellently.” The naginata warriors remained bowing until Tiamat had left. While they had been victorious now, the aftermath revealed that the assault had taken a greater toll on them than they had expected - twenty-one men had met the Death God at the gates tonight. Given their situation, they couldn’t return the corpses to their families to be buried at their ancestral shrines. In lieu of this limitation, the warriors gathered up the dead and placed them on a pyre made of peat and moss. A monk read the warriors their last rites as the peat was lit aflame, and the sight of their burning comrades didn’t exactly do much to lighten the spirits around the camp. Nevertheless, they had died on the line of duty for their daimyo - the most honourable death there was - and they would press on with their souls to power their march. When day broke, their duty continued; the Prince called for the retinue to break camp, and with the din of activity their belongings were packed, leaving behind the tents of those who had not lived throughout the night. As they marched in loose columns through the endless swampland, Tiamat, at the head of the columns alongside the Prince, began to sing. She sang out, “From Kylsar, the dense Kylsar From east, swampy east As silent, fearsome thunder Into battle march Reshut As silent, fearsome thunder Into battle march Reshut.” The assembled Reshut found the lyrics at the tips of their tongues, though they had not previously sung such a song before, and a murmur broke out as some joined in, “Made them tough Dense Kylsar, Ruthless storms of the seas And muddy bog. Ruthless storms of the seas And muddy bog.” More of the retinue began to join in, emboldened by those who first started, and the song picked up in volume, “No tiredness nor fear, They fight for night and day, Only the white mask Fell on one side. Only the white mask Fell on one side.” The song suddenly ramped into a fevered intensity as all the Reshut joined in, singing at the top of their lungs, “Huh, Kylsar, my home Kylsar, We'll stand up for you. To the waves of western shores We'll send your greetings. To the waves of western shores We'll send your greetings!” The song, as quickly as it climaxed, settled down, quieting though all continued to sing, “Just remember, Kylsar, in the dark times As an ode to old glory The honor of gorgeous folk Your sons will defend. The honor of gorgeous folk Your sons will defend.” Once the song had completed, the columns broke out into sporadic cheers, more energy in everyone’s steps. [hider=summarino] - 500 men go a walkin with tiamat through the swamp - they start running out of food because they’re not prepared for long journeys - they learn to forage and find the houllin berries - they set up camp one day and are attacked by horrible evil iskrall - they repel the iskrall, but lose a few men - saucer’s characters first show up, being a bunch of swordsmen who show exceptional skill - they continue on, and tiamat sings a marching song I guess - no MP usage [/hider]