[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] The Bloodied Fields, Parrence.[/center][hr]
[center][youtube]https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=AEj-bcXpkG4[/youtube][/center]

A battle is a contest of fights, the song struck together by the fury of battle. The instruments of war, the spear, blade and axe ring out along the battlefield. There is one thing binding all within this song, and that is belief, belief that their lives this day serves a higher purpose. May this purpose be the will of the gods, may this purpose be the safety of our loved ones, may this purpose be the bread baking on our hearths. In this carnage, these rivers are blood, our purpose opposes that of our foe, and for that, this is the hill we die upon.

[hr][center]Flashback[/center][hr]
[center][img]https://i.imgur.com/rCQjRLH.png[/img][/center]

Maëlle sits upon the horse as she rides with her father. She races against him up towards the tall hill, despite his concerns for both her and the horse, giggling as she reaches the summit, looking around to the lands below. Parrence. This is the land of her birth, the one her family has lived on for generations since before the times of the great Avincian Empire. Asier follows up after her, laughing like he usually does, [color=0054a6]“Looks like you are the greatest daughter of Arslan after all”[/color]. Maëlle huffs as her father makes one of his Dad jokes again, [color=FFC0CB]“Da, the only daughter of Arslan”[/color], he holds his hands up with a smirk, [color=0054a6]“Well, if your mother is having her way, that isn’t a title you would be holding on for long”[/color], Maëlle looks back in disgust, [color=FFC0CB]“Ewww Da…!”[/color]. He gives an almighty chuckle at her response, [color=0054a6]“Wouldn’t it be great to have a little brother or sister?”[/color]. She moves herself against him in a sulk, her father isn’t around enough as it is, and the idea of sharing him with others is not something she is too keen about.

Asier softens his smile as he looks out towards the horizon, [color=0054a6]“Everything the light touches, is Parrence”[/color]. Maëlle looks out as she sees the billowing green and yellow fields of the farm lands, the green tips of the woods, the brown mountains which border the region, and a place of darkness in the south, [color=FFC0CB]“What about that shadowy place?”[/color]. Asier looks out to the lands of the Eskandr, [color=0054a6]“Those are not our lands, they lie beyond our borders. It is a home to barbaric people who lust for violence and glory in battle, who enslave their fellow man and sacrifice them to their gods. You must never go there, Maëlle.”[/color] She looks up to him, the curiosity of a child still with her, [color=FFC0CB]“But why don’t you go and drive them out? They won’t be able to stand up to you, Da”[/color]. Asier smiles as he ruffles his hand through her hair, the innocence still there with her, [color=0054a6]“Being brave doesn’t mean you go looking for trouble. It is standing up when you have to”[/color]. Maëlle tilts her head to the side as she fails to comprehend the full meaning of the words, [color=FFC0CB]“Huh, guess even lions get scared.”[/color]

Asier roars with laughter, swotting her across the back of the head, [color=0054a6]“You have my tongue, no wonder your mother pines for you to travel with me.”[/color] She rubs her head, pouting, then returns the embrace of his hug, sinking into the warmth within those arms. [color=0054a6]"Everything exists together in a delicate balance. If this tips too steeply, the very thing you are fighting for can fall down. You need to understand that balance and respect it. If we over-hunt, we reduce the availability of meat for the next season, the pests they keep in check start to overwhelm our harvest. We need to respect all the creatures, from the singing rolieiro, to the galloping mare. Even the Eskandr exist within the great balance.”[/color]

[hr][center]Present[/center][hr]
Asier has secured the flanks for King Arcel as he fights with Hrothgar the Chartreuse, the black armour stained by the green fields of Parrence as he defiles the land he walks on. The battle rages on, and any who enter the proximity are easily overwhelmed by the might and fury of the warriors. He casts his glance as he spots the Laughing Knight attempting to retreat from a rhinoceros of a man. He saddles his bow as he grips firmly upon the reins, [color=0054a6]“So much for not looking for trouble”[/color], he gallops with great speed towards the duelling warriors, watching in disgust as the rhino breaks through the Parrench defenders like a hot knife through butter, his blood lust fixated upon the Laughing Knight as he tramples all those that get between him and his quarry.

Sons and Daughters of Parrence stand up to the brute, laying down their lives, adding their sparks to the great fires of destiny, each sacrifice hoping to turn the tide of the onslaught against their countrymen. Their lives flickering in an instant, their hopes, their dreams, their ambitions, all disappearing into the darkness.

Asier gallops on ever faster as his fingers grip tighter. The knuckles whitening as the blood is drained from them. Destiny cannot play out like this, this cannot be the will of that man, the cruel master of fate. 

[hr][center]Flashback[/center][hr]
[center][img]https://i.imgur.com/A9HKgIO.png[/img][/center]

A dark haired yasoi man stands before the stableman, blowing upon his hands and holding them out towards the stables as if warming them upon the raging fire as the horses whinnied in their torment. Thankfully the horses manage to escape as they flee across the great plains away from the burning inferno. A woman cradling a baby huddled behind the stableman, scared and frightened, tears down her face. There have been reports of pillaging in the area, the Tourrare being requested to stay on their guard.

The yasoi man snarls, [color=ffdead]“… what an abomination of a blood line. Humans are an error of time...”[/color], he kicks over the feeding trough [color=ffdead]“When I said I wanted a horse, I wasn’t asking”[/color]. The stableman has never seen a yasoi before, despite the people's reputation of being wanderers, they tend to keep to the forests rather than be out in the plains. [color=0054a6]“You have the wrong place, we are stable folk, horsemen, we know of no grievances against the Yasoi here.”[/color] The yasoi man’s face grows wide with a grimace, [color=ffdead]“As it should be. So let’s return to our chat, give your horses, your coin, and some time with your pretty little wife here.”[/color] The man licks his lips as he eyes the stableman’s wife up and down with his lustful gaze.

The stableman clutches upon the pitchfork within his hands, [color=0054a6]“Not even over my dead body.”[/color] Yasoi’s eyes light up at the sound of those words, [color=ffdead]“That can be arranged.”[/color] He raises his hand over towards the stableman, the power of the gift concentrates in his fingertips, causing surges of lightning to engulf the stableman in his tracks. The screams of the man's wife Giselle behind him as he feels the electricity flick across his body, scorching in a pattern similar to that of a whip, the wounds splitting and flaying his skin, the only thing between this monster and the people he loves… and would die for.

The stableman squeezes harder upon his pitchfork. In this moment, there is only silence for him, the pain numbing as he looks up into the Yasoi man’s eyes. Those yellow yasoi eyes, they widen with fury as the stableman is still standing, [color=ffdead]“Die! Your excuse of a bloodline shall be no more”[/color], the humble stableman Asier pushes with everything he has got as he charges and impales the Yasoi vagabond upon the end of the pitchfork. [color=ffdead]“No… you should be dead…!”[/color] the yasoi man cries.  As the lightning washed over Asier's body, this awakened his natural affinity with the gift, harnassing this new power as he uses it to drive ever forward, his eyes shining a bright blue. [color=0054a6]“[u][b]I[/b][/u] shall seize fate by its throat for [u][b]I[/b][/u] am not its prisoner.”[/color] The charge builds up at the end of the prongs, drawing all the lightning towards it before they connect, the raw energy causing an explosion, creating a roar like a lion, ripping the Yasoi man in half as the dismembered body flings in opposite directions, the eruption causing Asier to fly backwards.

[color=ffdead]“Curse you, Arslan (Lion)… curse your entire bloodline… Vyshta shall come for your pound of flesh from this day.”[/color]

[hr][center]Flashback[/center][hr]
[center][img]https://i.imgur.com/XsV5RND.png[/img][/center]

Asier feels the King Arcel’s blade upon his shoulder. Ever since that day, he has left his home, enrolling in the King’s service, training and fighting, becoming a better warrior, a champion for his family, a protector for his daughter. The awareness of his responsibilities and his lack of power were not lost on him. Only by becoming a servant of the King, he may hope he will become able to fulfil these responsibilities. 

[color=00aeef]“Now rise, Baron of Hierbamonte. It is expected that you take a name and a sigil for your house.”[/color] Asier stands proud before the king, [color=0054a6]“Arslan. The name of my house is Arslan. The sigil will be of the Lion for its courage and bravery.”[/color]

[color=00aeef]“Arslan? A Tourrare name. Well then, Ser Arslan. I am expecting great things from you and your people.”[/color]

[hr][center]Present[/center][hr]

Asier finally approaches the fight, the laughing knight on the backfoot as him and his illusions are swinging their weapons towards the Nashorn as the rhino strikes back in return, smashing through the illusions one by one. Shockwaves from the aftermath of his blows were leaving a path of destruction all around, the rhino was a tough opponent to be sure, a beast of man who ate at least five bowls of oat porridge for his breakfast each morning at least. He cocks two arrows within his bow, aiming to take the beast down a peg as he arms for the back of his knee caps to halt the monster in his tracks.

The arrows freeze in mid-air as the Nashorn turns to peer back towards Asier. Whilst nothing back be seen beneath his mighty helm, it could be nothing but pure malevolence that lies underneath. The arrows were sent back towards the direction of Asier. The arrows are returned at high velocity, impaling the horse rider in the neck and chest as he topples from his horse. Asier counting his nine lives as the illusion falls down just before him, watching over to the disgust of the Nashorn and the quick thinking of the laughing knight. Monster was the understated description for whatever this vile beast is.

Asier has not even crossed metal with such an opponent before, the fact he would have been taken down without the Nashorn even bothering to turn to attack him was a prospect he has never once considered in a battle. He stayed back a moment, working up the courage to strike again as this time his distraction allowed opportunity for the Laughing Knight and the Warrioress to strike at weak points upon the beast. He has never been one to underestimate an opponent, and targeting a distracted opponent in a weak spot was usually a simple task, like spearing a roast hog, though in circumstance, it is an angry hedgehog with 5ft steel spines. He decided to build up speed as he reached down for one of his throwing spears, circling back upon himself with it raised as he charged at full gallop. With the Nashorn taking a couple of deep blows, he should be able to pierce that flesh this time, and he empowers his throw with the force in his attempt to make it ring true...

An arrow is propelled before him at high speed, if it wasn’t for his magnetic aura, it would have struck true, as the shot sails past him, ruining his charge against the Nashorn. Asier uses thunder magic to try to guide it back to the shooter as the Nashorn, enraged, lashes out towards him, as the arrows are redirected back towards him impaling the illusion copy of himself. He has absolutely no chance against the Nashorn, and he is already down to seven lives thanks to the assist from the Laughing Knight. He knows he is clearly outmatched in this battle with his presence having a negative effect, he redirects his attention to the Eskandr archer champion.

Asier watches as the archer is already redirecting the arrows that the Nashorn used to take out the doppelganger as they get recalled back to her quiver, or he would have assumed until he watches her pirouette into the air, unleashing another barrage back towards him, followed by another shot ladened with a payload. He was able to evade the arrows, though the explosive package caught him off-guard as he was almost unsaddled from his horse from the force of it.

Asier was certainly caught on two fronts, the Nashorn with his immovable defence and his unstoppable offence, and the Eskandr archer targeting her new prey with ever increasing ferocity. The archer adapted so quickly to less conventional weaponry, perceiving the magnetic shell, to get through his defences and countering his ability to counterattack became a very real and present danger. He turns his horse towards her, decreasing his profile, as he starts to fire back an arrow of his own, then adopting an evasive pattern with his riding. 

The archer goes into cover as slippery as a snake as his shot misses the mark, impaling into an illusion of her making. She responded with further arrows of her own, the iron with a red hue as they were imbued with arcane energy, the tips molten to cause more permanent damage. Thankfully these shots fired wide as he cocks his bow to return fire himself. It is in this moment he had two decisions, either to retreat and cause the archer to move from her position to come towards him, or to make up the difference, and go in for a lunge within melee range. Whilst typical sense would have been to skirmish, this wasn’t the time or place for that, he needed to halt her advance now. He used multiple arrows within his bow as he fired towards her repeatedly in rapid succession. Accuracy was less than desired, but this was not his purpose, he needed her to stay within the same position, suppressive fire, opening her up for his follow up attack. He charged towards her with great haste in an attempt to close the distance as her counterattack failed to make a mark.

[hr][center]Flashback[/center][hr]

[color=FFC0CB]“Da, what happens when we die?”[/color] Maëlle studied the rabbit being cooked before her on the spit as the rich seasoned aroma was making their mouths water. Asier is amazed at the curiosity of children, always coming out with the big questions everyone seems to always take for granted. [color=0054a6]“If you ask the Eskandr, they say you end up in Valhalla. A place of joy and feasting. In old Avincian before the Pentad, they believed when they die, they are given wings, to live upon the clouds. Across the sea in Severa, there is said to be a people who worship large snake-like creatures…”[/color]

Maëlle starts to pout as she looks towards Asier, not being satisfied with any of these ‘if’ answers. [color=FFC0CB]“But what really happens?”[/color], she asks again more affirmatively. Asier strokes his beard as he mulls over the answer. [color=0054a6]“When we die, we join the earth. The earth grows crops, then this rabbit eats the crops, and now we eat this rabbit. It is all connected like a wheel.”[/color]. Maëlle nods as she accepts the answer and the food, her fingers becoming sticky with grease.

[color=FFC0CB]“Does that mean the rabbit ate grandpa?”.[/color]

[hr][center]Present[/center][hr]
[center][youtube]https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=WIuely_hs9A[/youtube][/center]

The Eskandr archer dropped to one knee as Asier charged. He rode towards her to close the distance, the hooves digging into the rich soil as he travelled at high speed. Naturally the champion has met her fair share of knights and isn’t afraid of what is to come. She crouches before him without fear, poised in her position and her bow raised. He raises his own spear as he lines up for the follow-through attack, aiming to impale the archer with his shaft. He comes upon her with great haste, only to find he has missed his target, feeling the arrow pierce through his chest. He looked around, only to notice that the archer had rolled to the side in a burst of speed, taking advantage of his exposed flank to target him. The next moments take time to register the damage, the fatal error he made to an opponent who had already shown strong improvisation skills.

The horse slowed down as it stumbled forward as it walked into the ambush, the trap prepared earlier. The arcane arrows erupted around him, shot after shot impaled into the horse and his body. Espirito whinnied, crying out in torment as it reared up high in its final defiance of death before falling down backwards upon its rider, the one who raised it from a foal. 

[center][img]https://i.imgur.com/0qdhh5N.png[/img][/center]

Asier in that moment could only see red. The fluttering red hair, the warm smile upon Maëlle’s face as she silently shouted “Da!” out towards him, as he crashes into the bloodied mud swamps of the battlefield. Laying there under the body of his trusted steed, [color=0054a6]“[u][b]I[/b][/u] failed you…”.[/color]

Vyshta extracted her pound of flesh that day.


[hr][hider=TL;DR Summary]
Asier plays the hero, trying to rescue people.
Flashbacks to his fantastic daughter and why you should all love her.
Flashback to a man of humble beginnings wanting to protect his family.
Flashback to said man being knighted by King Arcel, to gain the power to protect his loved ones.
Asier fought [s]Vyshta[/s] the Nashron and Ulfhild, losing.
Flashback to a conversation about death.
Asier bleeding out on the battlefield.
[/hider][hr][hr]