Battle for Mossflower: Midnight Raid (MG/Horde)

[Onyxwing]

(((This is a simple raid by the Mossguard on the weakest part of the horde's camp, it will involve artillery support from a small team of trebuchets located deep in Mossflower, and a greater number of ballistae and onagers located closer.)))

It was the dead of night. There were several guards near the pallisade and a large fire illuminating the fring of the woodlands. The Mossguard troops had less numbers but more artillery know how then the horde. There were equal parts Civilian and Millitary numbers crawling on their stomachs towards the edge of the forest. All of them were armed with ranged weapons and close quarters weapons as well. They waited patiently for the orders to come down the chain.

A Staff Sargent rose slightly above the line of cover, but he was directly behind a massive oak. In a low whisper he spoke to his troops.

"This is an official speach from Grutte Pier!: Friends, Woodlanders, countrymen, tonight we rise above our bonds and attack with our hearts, our minds, and our bare paws. It is established that some of you may not make it. But we will attack at the sound of the bugle. Prepare to engage the foe, and at the sound of the bugle, retreat. You will do your families proud."

At that the Staff Sargent lowered the paper and saw the fierce looks in the eyes of squad. All across the rows of Mossguard troops the same speech was repeated with similar effects on morale. Somewhere off in the distance a bugle sounded. The sargents blew on their whistles and the troops stormed out of the woods. Above them flaming balls of stone and cloth smashed into the part of the horde's camp closest to them, followed by a hail of falming balistae bolts and covering fire from smaller scorpios mounted in trees close to the camp.

The fight was on!


From his vantage point high above the camp, Rewhane worked with the ballistae crews to send a hail of shafts into the camp. Working a ballitae all by himself Rewhane's immense strength saw bolt after bolt hit the camp. Loading a final bolt, Rewhane left a crew in charge of the thrower and took twenty troops with him down into the battle.

(((I need one captain to supervise the ballistae (Create chaos!) Another with the storming troops (More chaos with lots of burning and smashing!) , and another with Rewhane! (Assist where needed and make more chaos!)))

[Mista P]

((Ooc: As second in command in the horde, I hope nobody minds if I cause a little caious... ... *muh ha ha ha* ))

It was a calm, cool night. The stars were out, but not very bright and only a sliver of the moon was out. Very little light came from the sky.

And that was the way Vladimir liked it...

Vlad personally liked darker, but this would do. It was dark, everybeast was scared out of their wits, and Vladimir was in charge of the horde while Ocutrum was away. He loved the power, he loved the manipulation, and he loved the way all the beasts looked at him.

They didn't.....

Every hordebeast was petrified of Vlad; none could look him in the eye. He had done nothing but train them ever since he took charge. Drill after drill after drill he forced them through. Vladimir allowed no breaks, no rests, and no slacking. Anybeast who was caught slacking was forced to march at the front of the battalion. Vlad taught the horde discipline and vigilance. The hordbeasts were weary when he dismissed them and set up a night guard. They were sure it was a test so everybeast was on edge, unable to sleep.

So when missiles fell from the sky, everybeast was on their toes. One of the more closed off sides of the horde was being attacked! There was ciaos reigning, the missiles were coming from the sky it seemed, not any one place!

But Vladimir was not going to be taken by surprise. Infact, he knew that the woodlanders were attacking. Taking his usual late night prowl of the camp borders, Vladimir had heard something off in the woods. It was faint and it mostly sounded like the rustle of leaves like from a slight breeze, but not feeling that heavy of a breeze, Vladimir waited, hidden in the shadows by a tent.

His thoughts were confirmed eventually by light horn in the distance and the balls of fire the were launched into the night sky. The woodlanders were attacking,. A petty attempt, but they should be dealt with none the less. Vladimir let the fire fall for a short while to make it looked like the woodlanders were gaining head way before he appeared before his frazzled soldiers and delivered orders.

"Blithering Dolts! Must I do everything my self? You tell all of the horde to awaken and maintain the camp, fortress style like you were trained. You! Grab a battalion and get these fires out. And You! Gather who you need and preform the scorpion maneuver toward those trees over there! Quickly now!" Vladimir barked, his black cloak billowing behind him.

The hordebeast were quick to follow his orders. Soon the entire camp was awake an alert, the fires were being put out and the advance guard was moving into position like a well oiled machine. The training payed off it seemed. The hordebeasts charged the woods, 1/4 taking to the left, 1/4 to the right, 1/4 to the middle, and the last 1/4 charging past their already fight comrades to take out the middle and the back.

Vladimir, however, was not with his troops. He as instead racing through the dark like a flying shadow. Nobeast saw him, they only saw his flashing blade. Like a bolt of lighting it struck. While the troops were fighting eachother, Vlad raced through the enemy lines, killing anybeast who stepped in his way. His goal? The large war machines.

A simple swipe, that was all it took. One swipe here, a cut rope there, and the machine collapsed upon itself or was unable to function. Confusion began to erupt in the lines of the woodlanders as Vladimir dealt his quick blows.

7 war machines fell before Vlad's paws before he hesitated at one. After dashing through the enemy lines, and cutting a rope on a large war machine, Vladimir realized a big stripedog was using the machine. His golden eyes narrowed. This was the first stripedog he had seen among the woodlanders, and by the way Vlad had to run to get to this particular war machine, he must be the leader.

Horribly prideful and arrogant, Vladimir, after disarming the war machine, paused infront of the stripedog, his dark fur and attire barely seen through the gloom. "Well, well stripedog, good show you've put on tonight. I must applaud your effort, but I'm just afraid, you don't make the cut..."


_{Posted while still a member of this site.}

[Sigurd]

OOC: Can I assume that Faffub has joined by now, because the recruitment thread is kinda slow.

Faffub was in the infantry unit. The hare had donned an old tunic, without all his buttons and such. The tunic was dark green, plastered in mud. Along the hare's fur, green and black dyes were in use. A light barkcloth cloak hung over his face. On his belt, was his straight sabre, which he sheathed in a makeshift scabbard made of heavy barkcloth. He was completely invisible in the woodland surrounding.

Drawing his blade, he gave a roar, "O'Baaaaaaaaarrrrrrrrrraaakuuuuuuuuuuuullllllllll!" he gave out his battle cry and lunged forward. A heavy set rat fell under his sword in a split second. The hare was soon darting around the site, hacking at a fox here, a stoat there, a weasel near that tent. All those training sessions with his Gran'pop Faffub had made him a well greased killing machine. The warrior blood of the O'Barukal clan had risen.

Blood pumped into his eyes, as he swiftly dodged a pike, Using the flat of his sword, he disarmed the creature, and stabbed him through thee heart. Because of the Bloodwrath overwhelming the hare, his senses increased, and he saw the dark shape in all the red, running through the crowd, killing his comrades in arms.

He shot after him, gaining much ground on the beast, which would happen to be Vladimir. Seeing his disarm the last war machine, the black shape turned to a larger one and said something big, and say something. All Faffub heard was mumbling. Roaring at the top of his lunges, he raised his sword as slashed at Vladimir, "Och, ye' mine, ye' wee bonnie!"

[Django]

Nik crouched in the underbrush, taking a quick headcount of the Guosim shrews that had joined the force. Twenty had come to the front lines with him, while the other twenty had been sent to help with the ballistae. They knew next to nothing about war machines, but Nik knew his shrews could learn fast. The front line twenty, including himself, were all accounted for. His best friend Ban was shifting nervously to his left. Nik placed a paw on the younger shrew's shoulder, offering a confident smile. Ban was new to fighting in a real battle, but Nik wouldn't have any other beast by his side.

"This is an official speech from Grutte Pier!: Friends, Woodlanders, countrymen . . ."

Each word sent a thrill down Nik's spine. His blood boiled as he thought of the vermin they were readying to attack, but he restrained himself, waiting until the order rang out to charge. Just because he was in charge of the Guosim force, it didn't mean he was in charge of Mossguard. They gave the final orders around here. His muscular body tensed, ready to spring. One paw gripped the hilt of his rapier tightly. Any second now . . .

Somewhere off in the distance a bugle sounded. The sargents blew on their whistles and the troops stormed out of the woods.

Nik lost himself in the rush of bodies surging forward, drawing his rapier and slicing the throat of the first vermin he saw. His movements were sure, strong, and fluid as a dancer's. Pure ecstasy welled up inside his heart as he yelled, "Logalogalogalooooooog!!!" He laughed with excitement as he heard other Guosim troops answer his battle cry.

Dispatching another vermin, the shrew captain grabbed the blade of a fallen foe, using both his rapier and the new sword to block an onslaught from a burly rat. Nik's fury rose at the sight of the rat. It had been a rat who'd taken his tail, and a rat who'd killed his only love. Allowing his rage and memories to consume him, Nik ruthlessly attacked the bigger creature, disposing of him without a second thought.

The Guosim shrew threw caution to the wind as he fought, taking many hard blows and deep cuts, but his adrenaline rush sustained him. He felt no fatigue, only bloodlust as the vermin continued to advance. Only the scream of a familiar voice brought him out of his blind fury. Whirling around, he saw a black shadow slice open Ban's chest. The shrew captain raced to his friend, stabbing any beast who got in his way.

"Ban!" he yelled, sliding to his knees beside his younger friend. Ban was doubled over in pain, clutching his bleeding chest. He looked up at Nik and then turned away in shame.

"'E got me, Nik," Ban rasped. "'E were too fast." The younger shrew pulled a paw away from his torso, his face going pale at the sight of the blood. "N-Nik . . . am I gonna die?" Nik shook his head firmly, taking his friend in his arms.

"I ain't lettin' ye die, Ban," the older shrew promised. His rage intensified, and he vowed to find the vermin scum responsible for Ban's injuries. "But ye gotta stay outta th' battle now, a'right? Ye can't fight no more." Ban nodded numbly, allowing Nik to lead him into the woods from where they sat at the edge of the battleground.

They were now close to where the war machines were being operated. Nik scanned them for any disturbances. There! The shadow was moving from one machine to the next, no doubt with sabotage in mind. Nik suppressed a growl of rage at the sight, and he could see another beast had spotted the shadow, as well. A hare was charging in that direction. Nik decided to help. Leaning Ban up against a tree, he ordered, "Stay here, an' don't move. I'll be back, mate. I promise."

With both his rapier and the stolen sword drawn, Nik stuck to the tree cover as he made his way over to Rewhane, whom the shadow seemed to be addressing. The shrew's next maneuver would require precise timing if it was to work. Once the shadow got a little closer . . .

[Wildrun]

((I'm putting Swing with the storming troops))

Swingshard K. McVoolren was living up to his family name.

"EULALIAAAAAAAA! MCVOOOOLLREEEN!" The Mossguard captain's snarl of battle rage showed his white teeth and twisted his demonically gleaming eyes in the firelight. Fighting with his squardon, Swing brought his sabre up, down, across, using the heavier blade to parry and smash his way through foes as his epee twirled like lightning in his other paw. The airborne missiles were raining effectively down on the rapidly terrified enemy troops, and Swing felt a cold trickle of satisfaction creep between the adrenaline.

It was working...

...when suddenly the downpour of missiles turned into a drizzle.

The dark of night flooded back where the sky had previously been lit with flames. Instinctively, the squirrel to Swing's right looked up in confusion, and the rat he had been facing took his opportunity. The recruit fell, and Swing avenged him by swiftly smashing the sneer off the rat's face.

A growl bubbled in the hare's throat, his narrowed eyes absorbing the chaos around him as the vermin nearest him took a nervous step back. They eyed each other, inching forward with no real lust to engage the former Salamandastron fighter. The young captain took the moment to glance behind him, reasoning that the missiles had been stopped by an enemy force. Swing's ears twitched as he contemplated--cut a path back to Rewhane and take out whoever was responsible? Or trust that the badger leader and any nearby Mossguard members could handle the situation and carry out the attack?

Trust in his leader's strength decided for the hare, and he raised his epee high. Shouting in a booming captain's voice, Swing rallied the Mossguard troops. "Al'ight, woodlandies! For'ard the buffs! To me and give 'em vinegar!"

Hearing their captain, the nearby Mossguard answered him with a roar and set upon the vermin with renewed vigour . Swing pointed his epee at the forerunner of the vermin who had been eyeing him. "C'mon, mate, 'tis a fine night to dance, wot?" The ferret shrieked as Swing launched himself, blades flashing, into the line of vermin. "Although I really was hopin' for a prettier partner..."

With the hail of missiles interrupted, the vermin horde began to push back against the valiantly fighting spearhead of woodlanders...

[Wildrun]

((Who's next?))

[Django]

((Onyxwing is next, unless someone else wants to join.))

[Onyxwing]

Rewhane looked over at the shadow making it's way along his siege engines before it stopped in front of him.

Horribly prideful and arrogant, Vladimir, after disarming the war machine, paused infront of the stripedog, his dark fur and attire barely seen through the gloom. "Well, well stripedog, good show you've put on tonight. I must applaud your effort, but I'm just afraid, you don't make the cut..."

Rewhane took the sheath off his Lochabar axe.

"It would seem you've made serveral artillery crewbeasts angry." Rewhane said as the crews of the destroyed war machines advanced armed with mallets and other heavy tools.

"Hold ranks!" Rewhane yelled to the crews before he locked his helmet on.

"I suppose you're the horde leader? Some dream of conquering Redwall, eh? If however, you're some kind of captain, I think we can arrange a deal that benefits both of us." With that, Rewhane took out four bags loaded with gold and silver.

"If, however you're one of those loyal types, we can always duel right here and now."

Rewhane kept a level head, the loss of war machines was terrible, but to gain an edge over the enemy would make their loss worthwhile.

"What will it be, Sable?"

[Prankster101]

Vladimir stood confidently in front of the large stripedog as it unsheathed it's large. Rightly, Vlad should be terrified. This badger was huge and looked terrifying! But Vlad's overconfidence was going to his head. He was most likely going to get killed standing amidst the angry enemy, but he real didn't care. He was enjoying this!

"It would seem you've made serveral artillery crewbeasts angry." Rewhane said as the crews of the destroyed war machines advanced armed with mallets and other heavy tools.

"Yes it seems so..." Vladimir replied with a sly smile on his face, his ears flicking back and forth. He could see and hear all of the creatures sneaking up on him and charging rather loudly, but again, he was not afraid. Taking a swift duck to the right, his black cape swishing behind him like a fluttering breeze, Vladimir dodged the yelling hare with ease.

Roaring at the top of his lunges, he raised his sword as slashed at Vladimir, "Och, ye' mine, ye' wee bonnie!"

Chuckling, Vladimir continued to stay one step ahead of the berserk hare. He could very well see this hare was out of control. If Vladimir stayed focus, he knew he could toy with the hare until for as long as he wished. "Oh is that right?" He replied with a sneer.

"Hold ranks!" Rewhane yelled to the crews before he locked his helmet on.

Vladimir, being careful to stay away from the berserking hare, just in case it did not hear the order the stripedog shouted, spun back to the leader of this pathetic band of renegades. Vlad's golden eyes flickered with hidden mirth. He was enjoying himself so much! Ocutrum should leave more often!

"I suppose you're the horde leader? Some dream of conquering Redwall, eh? If however, you're some kind of captain, I think we can arrange a deal that benefits both of us." With that, Rewhane took out four bags loaded with gold and silver. "If, however you're one of those loyal types, we can always duel right here and now. [...] What will it be, Sable?"

Keeping his sword at the ready, Vladimir could not keep himself from chuckling aloud. Looking the stripedog right in the eye, he smiled confidently. "You woodlanders are so simple minded. I'll take the loot and the duel as well. It sounds like so much fun. And besides..."

Vladimir took a short breath and let out a loud piercing whistle. Then suddenly the light from fire lit up the vermin forces and were launched into the sky. This part of the maneuver was Vlad's special touch. For of course, what's a scorpion without the sting? All the the vermin who were in the back ranks were all equipped with at least one, if not many oil soaked arrows and one piece of flint. On Vlad's signal, they struck the flint on their blades and lit their arrows, launching them into the ranks of the woodlanders.

"...I'm not horribly worried. I should be able to have a bit of fun! Your move stripedog..."

_{Posted while still a member of this site.}

[Sigurd]

The Highlander caught himself, quickly. Turning quickly, he struck out again towards the sable, quickly pulling the sword back, and aiming at his left leg, in a feint. Besides his Bloodwrath, he was a very capable swordsbeast. He would have this sable's head if it killed him.

"Ah've got this bonnie, Mah' Laird!" he called over to Rehane, pulling back some of the Bloodwrath, "Och, Ah'll let you take tha next 'un, if'n that's okay, Mah' Laird?" he said, gritting his teeth.