[center][img]https://i.imgur.com/q020OKO.png[/img][hr][b][color=0054a6]Event:[/color][/b] Defense of Relouse [b]|[/b] [b][color=0054a6]Location:[/color][/b] Battle on the Beach, Parrence.[/center][hr]The battle is in full flow even as King Arcel himself joins the battlefield. The Eskandr number in the tens of thousands, sweeping across the plains of Parrence like a plague of locusts. It was fortunate that his worst fear didn’t come to pass as the Eskandr stopped short of turning Cape Redame into a second beach-head, but the explosive assault upon its rockface will impact the terrain for aeons to come. 

Asier led a group of Tourrare horse riders with him as he swept the battlefield, rerouting the defenders from Redame into the reserves for the beach defence, plugging up holes left by those reinforcing the attack from the Witch Wood. His bow repeatedly releases that twang as arrow after arrow plunges into the waves of bodies advancing upon the Parrence defence. [color=0054a6]“Maintain the shield wall! If they flank us, they will overwhelm the defences. By Echeran, we will get through this day.”[/color], Asier rides along behind the defenders, his horse archers stemming the tide as much as they can.

It wasn’t long for the most shocking news to start spreading across the battlefield, [color=7bcdc8][b]"Le roi tombe!"[/b][/color], the words were chilling, the man he was only speaking to moments before, the one they all pledged themselves to, the one who promised salvation, has fallen. He could feel the coldness sink into his muscles, that sickening feeling, the shock lowering his blood pressure and heart rate, the exhaustion overwhelming as it feels like he was about to fall into a pit of despair, teetering upon its edges… then there was a light, like a dim star in the darkness, he feels himself drawn to it, no, he moves himself towards it, charges himself towards it, he forces everything he can into it.

Asier releases a massive roar, a fierce guttural shout, the power of the force flowing through him as his words bound across the battlefield. [color=0054a6][b]“Parrence! We do not fight this day for glory or honour, we fight here today for our children, and our children’s children!”[/b][/color], the storm clouds continue to roll as lightning shoots down, thunder booming, outside of the cries of battle, silence grows along the battlefield. [color=0054a6][b]This is no petty dispute for riches or trivial gain, this is an assault on our very people, our home, and our very Gods of the Pentad themselves.[/b][/color], the importance of this battle is clear, the endless ships on the horizon spoke of this being no ordinary Eskandr raid, but something far greater, and more sinister. [color=0054a6][b]”We stand here with all our might and the strength of our Gods can give us not for any man whoever it may be that orders us, but for us, as Men of Parrance, to surpass a monstrous tyranny that threatens to salt the very earth beneath our feet, rape our mothers, wives, and sisters, to enslave our children.”[/b][/color]. This battle is not about King Arcel, for such a battle would have already been lost. This is a battle for Parrence itself.  [color=0054a6][b]“We will not withdraw, we will not concede one inch, we will push these Eskandr one step at a time back into the very waters they love.”[/b][/color]

The speech did what it was intended to do, the wavering battalions starting to rally around, routing forces were starting to turn around and starting to rejoin the reserves, preparing to do their part. The shouts of panic are now being replaced by a sombre tone as men and women pray to the Pentad, knowing their part in what is to come.

It was at this moment that something quite unexpected started to occur, a tune started to play throughout the battlefield, the rhythmatic thuds amidst the fighting. A shout erupts as a battalion with their shields raised, make their charge against the Eskandr shieldwall. [color=7bcdc8][b]“For PARRENCE!”[/b][/color] with a resounding cry of [color=7bcdc8][b]“PARRENCE!”[/b][/color] as the others follow the charge. A voice shouts up, as in answering in response, [color=7bcdc8]“Where man has his wine and bread!”[/color], a few chuckles as further chorus [color=7bcdc8][b]“PARRENCE!”[/b][/color] is yelled. This starts to cause a chain reaction, as others start to yell what they love about their motherland. [color=7bcdc8]“The hearths are warm”[/color], [color=7bcdc8]“They heat my home”[/color], [color=7bcdc8]“the fields are green”[/color], [color=7bcdc8]“my road is built with stone!”[/color], [color=7bcdc8]“The forest is filled with game!”[/color], though a few of the offered suggestions such as the daughter of old Bill having a shapely bosom did not make the final draft in the history books. It was said in these moments a bard was inspired and brought these to script, and as a new song started to spread amongst the men, the song of Parrence marching to war.

[hider=Song Lyrics: The Parrench march for war!]
[i]Note: to be sung in a similar style of ‘When Johnny Comes Marching Home’.[/i]

[color=39b54a]It is written it is said,
Parrence! Parrence!
Where man has his wine and bread,
Parrence! Parrence!
The hearths are warm and heat your homes,
Fields green and roads built with stones,
Our Motherland,
The Parrench march for war!
For our children,
The Parrench march for war!

Under Oraphe’s watchful gaze,
Parrence! Parrence!
Your forests are filled with game,
Parrence! Parrence!
Blood shed keep us safe and free,
We would sacrifice our life for thee,
Home forever,
Shaped strong and true!
Children prosper,
Raised up from new!

Your fine Shoppes are stocked full,
Parrence! Parrence!
Wearing clean clothes of wool,
Parrence! Parrence!
Yet we long to turn away,
We know the cause to which we stay,
Without delay,
The Parrench march for war!
We sing today,
The Parrench march for war![/color][/hider]
Asier continued to ride towards the river, the last known location of King Arcel. Despite what he announced so far, he wasn’t sure how long the Kingdom would last after the battle without their King leading them.[hr][b][color=0054a6]Interacting:[/color][/b] Ser Percy Perpignan[hr]During one of the last bends of the battle, Asier starts to slow down as the smell hits his nostrils, a foul lingering smell that can put a hog farm to shame, the rich ammonia starting to irritate his lungs as he starts coughing, pulling back swiftly. As he looks around, he notices corpses with raised hideous puscles, black mottled skin, watery dark liquid which at some point could have only been blood. [color=0054a6]“We need to go around… by the Pentad, something ungodly is happening here…”[/color], before Asier could charge off, a menacing laughter is heard.

[color=BBA14F]”Mon ami, are you leaving already, why, the battle has just begun. [i]Égorge ces Eskandr comme des porcs.[/i] Oink oink oink.”[/color]. Coming out of the mists was no other than the blond nobleman from Viennes, Ser Percival Perpignan. He gives a grin as she pinches his fingers together, flicking them apart as he blows a kiss, mwah. [color=BBA14F]“[i]C'est beau[/i], the way their bodies just quiver and twitch, the last of their [i]élément vital[/i] oozing out through their skin.[i]délicieux[/i]”[/color]. Percy raises his blade which appears to have a thick coating in the blackened blood of the foes around him, moving to lick his tongue along the flat side of it. [color=BBA14F]“I was saving this one for you, Dear Arslan. [i]L’empoisonnement à l'arsenic[/i].”[/color]. Asier couldn’t help but spit towards the ground in disgust at the Parrench nobleman’s actions. [color=0054a6]“[i]Inhumain[/i], they’re Eskandr but they are still people.”[/color] Percy simply laughs loudly with a chuckle, his fellow cronies joining him in the chortle, [color=BBA14F]“[i]Oui oui[/i], I told you, Man of Arcel, so easy to rile up. I tell you what, [i]Chevalier Cabré[/i], you may have your fancy speeches, [i]oui[/i], I heard you, but you won’t do what is necessary for Parrench to win, this around you is how Parrench wins, real men with guts.”[/color], Percy thumbs upon his stomach to place emphasis upon the point. Asier waves off the comments, [color=0054a6]“Chevalerie, honneur, these concepts help keep us humans, not turn us into sauvages.”[/color]. Asier pulls away with the horse riders to the jeers of Ser Percy and his fouteurs de merde. [color=BBA14F]“[i]Oui[/i], there goes the lion, tail between his legs”[/color].
[hr][b][color=0054a6]Interacting:[/color][/b] Gerard [@Pantothenic][hr]Asier pushes into the river upon his horse as the body of Gerard was floating upon its back, along the side of its banks, still twitching with the signs of life. He pulled it to the back of his second horse, bringing him over to the shore. Once laid upon the ground, Asier puts the man upon his side, and thumps his back. He could see the recoil and spasms as the water sputters and drains out from Gerand’s mouth upon the ground. [color=0054a6]“It appears that both Queen Eleanor and Dami favours you this day, Magician. Tu as du culot après cette manœuvre."[/color]
[hr]It appears that Echeran has given Asier good timing as well, as he hears the battle cry of none other than King Arcel himself. It appears that both the royal figures have decided to make their stand opposing each other on the battlefield directly. The bards are already recanting this incident to memory, those more savvy have the inks wet and write down the details vividly. How heroic this match-up will be documented in the history books, this is not a clean duel, both men surrounded by warriors and champions alike as they battle for glory.

A band of Eskandr armed with bows were in this position for this moment, the harbingers of the final moments of King Arcel himself. [color=0054a6]“Horsemen, intercept!”[/color], they gallop along the river bank as Asier and his riders start to harry the warband. Their bows twang repeatedly as arrows fire towards the enemy position, as the shieldmen line up formation to block their way, shields raised high as each of the round shields begin to turn into hedgehogs as they are repeatedly being studded by the arrows. The defensive formation holds the ground, forming a barricade around the archers. The field of vision is clear, the bows readied. The Eskandr warband leader barks his orders, [color=#d3d3d3][b]“Spidd gullgåsen - Skewer the Golden Goose!”[/b][/color].

Asier sensing the storm to come draws on the abundance of thunder energies upon him. [color=0054a6]“We must protect the King!”[/color], one of the Tourrare horsemen uses the opportunity to sprint heroically ahead, able to provide in his fateful last moment a temporary shield as arrows pierce through his flesh, the horse neighing wildly as it falls down upon the floor in its last protest to this cruel world. 

Warband leader barks his orders more fiercely. [color=#d3d3d3][b]”igjen og igjen - again and again!”[/b][/color]. The Tourrare arrive in their position, dismounting in their own positions to provide a shield wall between the Eskandr and their king. Spears cross with spears as the walls meet, as the exchanges occur between the men of the north and those of the south. Obscuring any direct line of sight to the King. Asier and a couple of his best riders do their best to exploit any openings within the enemies shield wall, those this is few and far between given the veteran nature of these forces. The warleader continues to throw curses where his blades fail, [color=#d3d3d3][b]"Gamla lombungr, sugandi toti merr madr - Thou art morons, sucking at the teat of your mare mother."[/b][/color]. Asier could only laugh at the man’s frustration, not understanding a single word being spoken, but clearly having some idea of his intent.  [color=0054a6]“Il est issu d'une lignée infidèle et vile - He clearly comes from an unfaithful and vile lineage.”[/color]. He gives the signal to target the foul-mouthed Eskandr, the horse-archers line up their shots as they adopt the Cantabrian circle, each of them using the power of the force as they fire shot after shot towards the Warband Leader. The Eskandr grunts as he raises his shield, continuing his taunt as empowered shots repeated hit the wood as it starts to chip and crack, and as he realised too late that this was their plan, the shield snaps and breaks, leaving him completely exposed as Asier himself fires the arrows which stick him like a pin cushion as he falls upon the ground in his final breath.

With their leader down and the Tourrare putting up a fierce defence, the archers move to a volley stance, [color=#d3d3d3][b]”Volleyskudd!”[/b][/color]. If they cannot attack through to the target, they will rain arrows upon the King instead. Each of the shots firing true in the air, as they rise high above the battlefield. However, this was the moment Asier was waiting for, to force them in this situation as he uses the magnetic properties of his Thunder magic to control and guide the arrows onto a new trajectory, as they curve up and around, heading straight back to the archers who fired them. [color=0054a6]“Mort d'en haut - Death from above![/color]. The rain of Asier came down with such force as the archers were shish kebab with the very arrows they fired themselves.

This left an opening, the fatal one, which allowed Asier and the remaining Horseriders to charge through the lines to break the Eskandr formation, scatter the survivors, and allow the infantry to put the final nails in their coffins. [color=0054a6]“Now for the next lot. Let’s support his Majesty the best we can”.[/color]

[hr][hider=TL;DR Summary]
Asier uses the Force to deliver a battle speech.
The Birth of a Marching Song occurs upon the battle field.
Asier meets Ser Percy Perpignan again. Percy uses arsenic on his foes, makes a bad joke about how Arsenic sounds like Arslan. Does his best to rile up Asier, advocating how his method for war is the superior one.
Asier picks up Gerard from the river.
Asier supports King Arcel by taking out a warband who was tasked with shooting the king on sight.
[/hider][hr][hr]