[center] [h1][b][u]Carn[/u][/b][/h1] & [h1][b][u]Brundt[/u][/b][/h1] [/center] [hr] The walls were in a sorry state. The archers and most of the mages had been standing directly on top of the section that Aurielle had brought down. Most of them were now dead, their bodies buried under rubble in the breach. The others were hiding behind cover, terrified that the enemy still had another spell up their sleeve. But the breach was not undefended. Grim-faced infantry were already climbing the rubble to take positions in the narrow gap. A few mages were among them, who for some reason or another had not been on the wall. As Carn and his army approached, they raised their hands, and shot a torrent of flame at the spearhead of Carn’s assault. Memories of his burning home flashed before his eyes. Instinctively he stopped and turned away, fully expecting to be incinerated. The flames washed over the back of his cloak, but he felt no pain. Then he heard the screaming, and he realized his men had not been so lucky. When the screaming stopped, the flames faded away, and Carn rose to his feet. He was unharmed, but the reddened and blackened corpses of his best men lay surrounded him. The assault had stalled, with most of his men having stopped in their tracks. Others had gone all the way forward, only to flatten them against the wall and out of the mages’ line of sight. Emboldened, the archers on the wall emerged from cover to begin loosing arrows, and more of Carn’s men began to fall. Carn raised his sword to draw the attention of his warriors. When they saw that he was unharmed, a few even gasped in surprise. An arrow flew past his head, but he didn’t even flinch. Instead, he turned and pointed his blade at the breach. “Forward!” he shouted once again. As Aurielle’s magic ravaged the defenders, Carn’s host surged forward. They arrived just at the foot of the breach itself, and began the climb, with Carn at the head. Then they neared the top, and the defenders began to strike downward with their spears and swords. With one hand maintaining a precarious grip on the ruined stone, Carn parried a thrust from a spear before driving his blade into his foe’s groin. The man fell back screaming, and Carn hauled himself upward, lashing out in a wide arc with his blade to drive his enemies back as he rose to his feet. But they rallied quickly, and were soon upon him. Luckily his ring and his innate gift for swordsmanship were more than enough to defend himself, his hands and weapon a blur as he deftly blocked and parried each attack, occasionally delivering a riposte to wound a vulnerable opponent or cleave their weapon in two. The distraction he posed allowed the men behind him to find their own footings, and with reinforcements on his flanks Carn could now go on the offensive. He began to advance forward, slashing throats and bellies; cutting through spears, shields, swords, and armour to do so. Once more, his blade and his hands were slick with blood. If Carn wasn’t there, the fight would have been a bloody stalemate, grinding on for ages until one side finally broke. But he was there, and there wasn’t a single man or woman in this breach who could possibly stand against him. A figure in bronze armour lunged at him - probably the commander of this fiasco - and Carn effortlessly parried his strike before removing his head at the neck. That was enough to break the defenders. They turned tail and fled. With a grin, Carn strode forward, sliding down the other end of the breach and into the city itself. The bodies of mages and archers who had been slain by the magical assault were sprawled around him, their skin charred by the blast and their limbs twisted by the fall. He would need to thank her for that later. But right now, they were in the city, and it was time to press forward to the castle. Then his smile faltered. Where was his brother? “They’ve got reinforcements!” Yarwick shouted, appearing beside him and pointing. A fresh host of militia appeared around a corner and came charging to meet them. At their head was a group of priests wearing armoured robes, one of whom had been with Brundt during the parley. Carn flourished his blade and called for his men to form up. [hr] Brundt had never run faster in his life. He had gathered as many men as were stationed at the garrison and set out, cursing quietly to himself. On the way he encountered individual groups of militia, and one unit of houseguards, who had formed up in response to the chaos, but were proceeding toward the wall with far less alacrity. Brundt’s shouts were enough to remedy that, and soon he had a small army in its own right at his back. Then he came upon a group of soldiers who weren’t running toward the fighting, but away from it. Upon seeing him, they stopped in their tracks. “They… they destroyed the walls!” one of the soldiers informed him. “They’ve taken the breach! We can’t kill them!” “Nonsense,” Gelos interjected. “Fall in,” Brundt ordered. “We’re taking it back.” The soldier paled slightly, but nodded. [hr] Carn twisted, sending a vicious cut across a militiaman’s face, who fell back to be replaced by the priest who led them. The armoured priest swung at him with a blade, and Carn brought his own weapon up to block, only to be surprised by the sheer amount of force behind the blow, which threatened to throw him off balance. Then he saw it: a silver ring on the priest’s finger, with a glowing ruby. It was not unlike his own sapphire ring, and somehow he instinctively knew: this was what the source of the strange pull he had felt toward the city. Carn brought his knee up into the priest’s groin, before lowering his blade and swinging it upward, severing the priest’s hand at the wrist. The priest was falling back now, into the arms of one of his acolytes who began dragging him away. Cries of alarm began to ring out among the militia, who began to break once they realized their leader had fallen. This was almost too easy. He cast his gaze down to the priest’s severed hand, and knelt to pluck the ring from the finger, before sliding it onto his own. A sensation of power surged through him, and he felt stronger. There was not much time to dwell on it, however. They had beaten back the second wave of defenders, but more would soon follow. Carn ordered his men to advance a few paces, clearing up more space for the warriors behind him to enter the city, and allowing those who had already seen combat to catch their breath. Now that they were past the meatgrinder that was the breach, they were taking light losses. He glanced back at the breach behind him. Where was Aurielle? He had expected her to have caught up by now. It wasn’t like her to hang back in a situation like this. For a moment, he wondered if he should feel concerned. Then a battlecry could be heard as the third wave arrived, this one headed a tall, scarred, armoured figure with a shield in one hand and a hammer in the other. His brother had arrived. [hr] The two met each other’s eyes, and they both hesitated. Their men, however, did not, and the two armies surged forward to meet each other in a clash of bronze and copper. Carn did not know which one of them snapped out of it first, but soon they were both pushing past their men toward the frontline. Brundt made it there first, likely due to his superior size and strength, and swung his hammer. The head practically disintegrated under the sheer power of the swing, spraying blood and bone across friend and foe alike. Another swing shattered a warrior’s shield, as well as the arm that carried it. Brundt had never killed anybody before today. It gave him pause, but only for a moment. His thoughts drifted back to Thyma, on that fateful night all those years ago. He thought of the massacre that happened to his people, and then imagined that happening on a scale as large as Ketrefa. It could not be repeated. He would fight to prevent it. Another man charged at him, but Brundt lashed out with the edge of his shield and knocked the man’s head clean off. Carn hesitated. He recalled Brundt’s unnatural strength, and realized that his younger brother had only become more powerful over the years. But Carn had gifts of his own, and was bolstered by artifacts he had collected or received from the gods. It would have to be enough. So, he pressed forward. Then, the way before Brundt was clear - Carn’s men no longer being willing to challenge him - and the two brothers came face to face. “You must surrender,” Brundt said, his voice barely audible over the roar of the battle. “I could say the same to you,” came Carn’s retort. Brundt rushed forward with hammer in hand. Carn sidestepped the charge and did a pirouette, swinging his sword across Brundt’s waist. The divine blade sheared through the metal, but surprisingly only seemed to score a glancing cut in the flesh itself. Brundt turned and stepped toward him, swinging his hammer at the shorter man. Carn backstepped it easily enough, and as Brundt overextended himself, he stepped into Brundt’s range and smashed the crossguard of the sword into Brundt’s nose. Brundt barely even flinched. Casting his shield aside, he seized Carn by the throat, and lifted him off the ground. But Carn was not unarmed. He drew back his sword and thrust it at Brundt’s chest, puncturing the bronze again, only to be blocked by one of Brundt’s ribs, which was somehow just as durable as the sword itself. Then Brundt dropped him, before lowering his now free hand to the sword still embedded in his chest, and pulled it free. “Stand… down…” he demanded, now holding Carn’s weapon as well as his own. For a moment, Carn almost wanted to accept. Perhaps Brundt would show mercy on him after all. Perhaps his army might be allowed to flee… No. He had fought many battles over the years, and not once had he surrendered. He had retreated, but he had never surrendered. His men had come all this way, leaving their homes and families behind, and if he simply gave up, all their efforts and sacrifices would be for nothing. That was something Titania and Lothar had been too weak to see, when they criticized his decisions and questioned his methods. He looked at his sword, and noted that Brundt was still holding it by the blade… Slowly, he rose to his feet, his hands raised as if he was going to suggest the offer. Then with a sudden movement, he seized the edge of his cape and lashed out, the fabric striking Brundt in the face, while his other hand reached forward and grabbed the sword. Having taken the larger man by surprise, Carn was able to wrest the weapon back before Brundt’s grip could be reasserted. It was then that one of Carn’s men had decided to offer his aid, diving forward and tackling Brundt. The two fell to the ground, but the unknown warrior was not on top of Brundt for long, and was pushed off relatively easily. That gave Carn enough time to raise his blade and swing it downward… ...only for Gelos to step between Carn and Brundt, his own weapon raised. Carn’s sword sliced through Gelos’s bronze blade with ease, before cutting deep between shoulder and neck. The bodyguard stared up at him, before the broken hilt slipped from his grip and he slumped to the ground. “NO!” Brundt shouted, leaping to his feet and charging forward. His arms closed around Carn’s waist, and he picked the smaller man up, charging deep into the Ketrefan ranks (his soldiers narrowly stepping aside) before unceremoniously throwing Carn to the ground. Carn felt his spine break under the impact. For a split second, agony coursed throughout his body, then he felt nothing. Carn’s men surged forward in an attempt to rescue him, but the Ketrefans closed ranks again, and they could not reach the two brothers, one of whom now stood victorious over the other. Brundt rose to his feet, looked down upon his brother, and realized what he had done. His rage over Gelos’s death dulled. For a moment, and not for the first time, he wondered why. Why had it happened this way? Why was any of this necessary? If the gods believed one side or the other to be in the wrong, why send mortals to kill each other? Why not just tell one side to change, or find some other solution!? But now was not the time for such philosophical queries. A battle raged around him, and for as long as it continued to rage, his men continued to die. “I’m sorry it came to this,” Brundt said, bringing his hammer down. But just before it could impact Carn’s head, his body vanished, as did the sword embedded in Gelos’s chest [hr] With both Carn and Brundt away from the main fight, the battle had become a war of attrition. One that the attackers were in no position to win, with more reinforcements arriving every minute. To make matters worse, Carn’s absence had been noted, and his men assumed he had been killed or captured. Morale began to plummet. Yarwick attempted to rally them, only to fall as three militiamen came at him at once. Ingrid had just finished climbing the breach when she saw Yarwick go down, and in that moment she was struck by an arrow. Then Brundt himself returned to the fray, and finally, the attackers broke. They turned and fled, desperately attempting to climb the breach and flee the way they came, with some even going so far as to pull their own comrades down in order to get ahead. Others were more sensible, and threw down their weapons. Brundt’s men surged past those who had done so, and began to butcher the ones who had fled with a savage fury. As for Brundt himself, he watched this with an air of detached dispassion. He had won the day, but this didn’t feel like a victory. He glanced up at the sky with narrowed eyes, and wondered who was peering back. [hr] Pain. That was what Carn felt. But at least it was feeling. He hadn’t felt anything a few moments ago. Brundt wasn’t standing over him either. And the sky, inexplicably cloudy, was suddenly clear. But… was it always that blue? He moved his arm, and felt his hands brush against sand. Sand… why was there sand? He was on a city street. He sat up, feeling a dull ache shoot throughout his body, but at the same time was relieved - he hadn’t been able to move at all previously. Then he realized he was no longer in Ketrefa. A white haired figure stood over him. One who looked… a lot like him. “Father?” [hr] [hider=Post Summary] Carn attacks and captures the breach, stepping into the city itself. Meanwhile, Brundt starts rushing to intercept the attackers, rallying as many men as he can. Varsilis gets there first with a small group of militia. After a short one-sided duel with Carn, Varsilis loses his hand and Carn steals the ring. Then Brundt’s army finally arrives. Brundt and Carn duel, with Brundt emerging victorious, but Carn vanishes before Brundt can strike the final duel. Yarwick and Ingrid fall. Carn’s army eventually breaks and flees, only to be pursued by the vengeful defenders. Brundt has won, but is far from happy. Carn wakes up in another realm with his wounds healed. [/hider] [hider=Might Summary] [u]Cadien[/u] [b]Beginning MP:[/b] 5 [b]Beginning DP:[/b] 5 -1MP to teleport Carn and the Sword of Carn to Meliorem. -1MP to heal Carn’s injuries. [b]Ending MP:[/b] 3 [b]Ending DP:[/b] 5 [/hider] [hider=Prestige Summary] [u]Carn[/u] [b]Beginning:[/b] 55 +5 for 10k+ characters. [b]Ending:[/b] 60 [u]Brundt[/u] [b]Beginning:[/b] 26 +5 for 10k+ characters. [b]Ending:[/b] 31 [/hider]