The Battle of Fjaga

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The Battle of Fjaga

Postby Matt » Thu Aug 11, 2005 10:55 pm

As the sun rose on the morning of the 17th of Azura 730, fog choked the Akag peninsula and flooded the Hjaen Pass. The night before, King Alegar II of Orbaal had briefly bivouacked his army at Geldeheim, but the King had not been willing to tarry as he had intelligence that the King of Tharda had seized Tandir. Alegar was pleased to learn his long time enemy, Bjan Verakaar, Lord of Tandir, had fallen before the southrons, especially since Bjan had had the temerity to raid Geldeheim while Alegar’s attention was turned to the rebellious Jarin miscreants in Leriel. This did not surprise Alegar, for if he had a lower opinion of anyone other than the southrons it was Bjan Verakaar. Bjan’s miscalculation would result not only in the expulsion of the weak southrons but the destruction of clan Verakaar. He was less pleased to learn that the raid had seized or burned all of clan Taareskeld’s warships or he would have proceeded by sea.

When the word came that Bjan Verakaar had raided Geldeheim, seized ships, and then returned to Tandir, King Alegar ordered the bulk of his forces to return to Geldeheim for he would punish Tandir once and for all. Upon arriving in Geldeheim, he learned that he would not be facing the Verakaar - they had been utterly defeated - but the forces of the King of Tharda. Perplexed, but undeterred, King Alegar determined to regain control of the Akag peninsula - so close to his stronghold and primary strength. He called together his war council, including his sons Meraag, Raabaaas, and Alegar, and the lords of Vaagel, Fjaga, Ebein, Aaldem, Daagen, Tawheim, and Zynholm. They all agreed that it would be intolerable for Alegar to permit this insult, and that the army must engage the enemy as soon as practical.

Thus the morning of the 17th of Azura found King Alegar’s army emerging from the Hjael Pass, marching towards Fjaga just as the fog burned off. To the surprise of the Ivinian forces, they found the army of the King of Tharda arrayed against them, blocking the head of the pass. The Orbaalese were able to exit the pass unhindered, but could not proceed further. King Alegar was incensed. These upstart southrons had no business intervening in his kingdom, especially at this time when the Jarin had once again risen against the proper order of things. “How could they know we were marching here,” muttered Alegar.

“Witchcraft, mighty King,” replied Bjan Drogo.

Alegar spat into the dust. “Witchcraft,” he repeated. “Yes, they say these spawn of Melderyn have witchery about them. It may be so, it may be so. But I swear to you Bjan it shall not avail this whelp of the south. Position the huscarls.”

Bjan bowed to his King. “It shall be done, dread sovereign.”

The Seld warband stood near to the King under the command of Prince Meraag. Their leader Igon, priest of Sarajin, had blessed them all before the battle. Stoically, they stood their position, but heard his words. The army of the King of Orbaal had been through much. Called together months before to punish the Jarin of Leriel who were defying the royal will, they had seized Pethwys and invested Leriel. After months of siege, the Jarin in Leriel had run out of water, and the craven Jarin lords had slipped away under cover of darkness. King Alegar had left his kinsman Hunris Hamarkel, the Valhakar of Shien to hold these castles and marched his army back to Geldeheim to face the threats to his rear. Now, as Alegar looked over the field to the Thardan line, he knew that this day would be sung by skalds for generations to come. He smiled grimly. “Look,” he said to his assembled lords, this foolish young King has put his head in the noose. If he were more experienced, he would have corked us up in the pass behind us. Instead, he’s let us come through and deploy. Even so, we yet hold the high ground. Look how this valley slopes gently down - we shall have the advantage in the attack. The foothills protect our position, but the field is exposed. I did not expect battle here, but this is ground I will accept.”

Alegar could not believe his young adversary had allowed him to deploy his forces, nearly 160 huscarls and 500 light foot with him, with almost a fifth of the light foot archers. Alegar did not know what numbers were arrayed against him, but he was certain that his troops, inspired by the Ljarl, would prevail. He called his senior commanders together and they surveyed the Thardan forces. A line of medium foot stretched across the front rank, perhaps three or four deep. Behind them at to either flank could be seen hundreds of archers. On a slight rise, the King of Tharda and his nobles waited, attended by no more than forty mounted knights. Nearby, clearly in reserve, more infantry - well armored - waited. King Alegar turned to Bjan Drogo and the Valhakar of Vaagel and mused, “Not many horsemen. We had been told the Thardans had many horsemen. And what of that infantry they hold in reserve - they seem better armed than those in the line.”

“The standards proclaim the First Legion, my King,” replied Drogo. “They say they are the elite of the Thardan troops. When we defeat them, we shall have repulsed the best the Southrons have.”

“Without horse, they will have no choice but to engage us,” said Lord Vaagel. “The infantry are no match for our warriors.”

“Yes,” agreed Alegar. “Keep the archers and light horse in reserve, order the clans forward. Let Prince Raabaas command the attack and Prince Meraag the reserve. We shall engage the Southrons directly. Bjan I tell you, by the end of this day we shall have that whelp’s head on a spear.”

The fog had now burned completely off, and the sun stood high in the sky that day. As the army of Tharda stood athwart the mouth of the pass, the army of the King of Orbaal marched forward to contest. The Ivinians moved into position, and began to beat their spears upon their shields. A cry rose up from them which was terrifying in its savagery. There were only a few on the Orbaalese side who noticed that soldiers of Tharda’s I Legion stood in their ranks, silent, and in good order. Then, as the Ivinian war chant died down, the young King Arren II rode forward to the front of his troops. The Orbaalese could not hear his words, but after a few minutes, the cry was heard across the field: Arren, Arren, ARREN, ARREN, ARREN! As the legionnaires reached a crescendo, they raised their swords and cheered their King who turned to face the Orbaalese line.

At this moment, Raabaas looked expectantly to his father, and was not disappointed. The signal given, the Orbaalese host moved across the field. Prince Raabaas commanded the center, the Valhakar of Vaagel commanded the right, and the Valhakar of Ebein commanded the left. Haefnir Raldar was attached to Prince Raabaas’ group, and his Raldar kinsmen attacked with the Lord of Ebein. The troops of the Valhakars of Aaldem and Daagen were held in reserve under the command of Prince Meraag along with the bulk of the Ivinian bowmen. The Seld warband chafed to move forward, discontented to be part of the reserve. For Prince Raabaas would no doubt make short work of the southrons and leave no glory for the rest.

The Orbaalese blew their horns, and charged the field. At once, they came under fire from the Thardan longbowmen. Volley after volley rained down on the charging Ivinians, decimating their dwindling ranks with each set of loosed arrows. The Ivinians knew they had to cross the field as quickly as possible to avoid the shafts of death being loosed by the Thardan bows. The Thardan medium foot held their ground, spears at the ready, until the Orbaalese troops were nearly upon them. Then they charged, spears forward, and engaged the Orbaalese. The melee was bloody and close, with each side giving no quarter. The Lord of Ebein’s forces were especially mauled.

The Selds watched with horror as the attack of Prince Raabaas was repulsed. “What is this?” growled King Alegar to Bjan Drogo.

“We must reinforce Raabaas, my King.”

“Order the reserves forward. Now!” Prince Meraag gave the signal and his men marched forward to reinforce his brother. The Seld contingent crossed that bloody field. Jorst Seld, a huscarl of the clan and Igon Seld the senior clansmen had led their force into battle. As they crossed the field, several of the clan’s light foot had been cut down by the Thardan archers, but the bulk of the Selds made it to engage the enemy. Ulauf Seld and Laenvan Hawkeye attempted to use their bows to support the clan and fight as a unit as their kinsmen fought, but it was difficult. Ulauf in particular tried to support his cousin Gutta Gundar, one of the few shield maidens in the battle. Sword and axe flashed repeatedly. The Ivinians acquitted themselves but were badly outnumbered. Somehow, the slight height advantage the gentle slope gave them didn’t seem to be effective. As the melee raged, the cry went up, horns were blown, and the Selds looked west in dismay to see hundreds of Thardan knights charging the flank of the Orbaalese army. Many broke through, and though Laenvan and Ulauf were sure they had unhorsed several knights with their arrows, they had to fall back under the weight of the onslaught. As Jorst fell back, he stumbled over his friend Haefnir, and pulled him to safety. Suddenly, trumpets blared from the enemy line, and as the Thardan cavalry flanked the Orbaalese, the Thardan heavy foot moved forward from reserve to join the fray, halberds flashing redly. The entire Ivinian line began to collapse under the advance of the fresh troops. In the confusion, Laenvan saw the young King of Tharda himself move forward with his heavy infantry, and thinking to end this now, raised his bow and loosed an arrow. Arren II was less than a hundred yards away, golden crown on the brow of his great helm shining in the sun, and Laenvan saw him clearly. The arrow streaked true, but to Laenvan’s astonishment, King Arren seemed to perceive the flight of the arrow, and raised his hand. The shaft, on a deadly course, suddenly turned away harmlessly. Laenvan in shock notched another arrow, but was forced to retreat by the advancing legionnaires before he could loose it effectively.

The Orbaalese forces were now forced back, overmatched. A cry arose again, and the Selds watched in horror as a group of Thardan knights broke from the main body and made for the position of King Alegar. Prince Meraag attempted to rally his men and interpose his force, but was pushed aside by the mounted Thardan knights. Bjan Drogo raised his sword to defend the King, but was surrounded and fell. King Alegar tried to defend himself, but was captured by the knights of Tharda and carried off the field. At this, many of the Orbaalese forces broke and ran. The battle became a rout, and less than half of the Orbaalese troops eventually made it back to Geldeheim. The light horse, held in reserve, valiantly tried to cover the retreat of the army, and were annihilated.
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Matt
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Postby Matt » Fri Aug 12, 2005 1:32 pm

Retreat from Fjaga

The retreat itself was not arduous, but the shame was. The Army of Orbaal retreated in inverse of its advance, with the forces of Prince Meraag now in the lead, and the broken ranks of Prince Raabaas in the rear. The forty or so Light Horse covered the retreat, and fought bravely as the Thardan knights overwhelmed them. Still, they sold their lives dear, and kept the Orbaalese forces from being overrun. There was little talking in the ranks. All knew they had suffered a terrible defeat, and had lost their King. He had not gone down in battle, but had been ignominiously bundled onto a horse and taken behind Thardan lines. His ransom would no doubt be steep.

The Seld warband had fared comparatively well. Some of their light foot had been lost, but none of the huscarls and none of the close kin. Jorst had kept his friend, Haefnir Haldar with them, but he worried about his kin, so close to the front of the battle. He wondered if any of them had survived. Still, it was with dread that the band approached Seldholm, and it was unspoken among them that this was no time to face the Valhakar. There was some surprise when Gutta Gundran broke ranks and headed for the village. “I have lost a battle,” she said simply, and her cousins understood. The Shield Maiden’s sense of honor would not allow her to continue bearing arms now that her skill had proven inadequate. Indeed, Ljarl demanded nothing less from her, and she bore it stoically. When next they saw her she would be in a dress, and not a few of the men had a brief twinge of jealousy. But their honor was in vengeance, and so they marched on. It was a tired, and demoralized army that arrived in Geldeheim late that evening. There had been no sign of pursuit from the victorious Thardans, and with pickets set, the army slept. Those that had shelter made for it; those that did not, slept under the stars on the Hagined Common. The Seld warband retired wearily to the clanhouse.

Over the next week, more men trickled into Geldeheim. The casualties were high - of the 660 in King Alegar’s army, less than 300 remained. The light foot militiamen had taken it worst as they were relatively unarmored compared to the huscarls. The army had lost over half its archers, who had fought with sword and spear towards the end of the battle and had been run down by the knights. The huscarls hadn’t had nearly as many casualties, thanks to the mail or scale hauberks they wore, but only two of the horsemen had escaped the battle. They came later, bearing Bjan Drogo, wounded, but alive. Of the Lords Albyn Staeld of Fjaga and Taebaal Gydasael of Ebein there was no sign. Lord Daasen of Daasen had been wounded, but had escaped the field. Men searched the camp for friends and family, clasping arms in silent relief when they found one, and others searching on fruitlessly. No one knew how many were dead, and how many had been captured. In this week, the Jarin of Geldeheim stayed out of the way, but some were injured and killed by the angry Ivinians.

On the evening of the 26th of Azura, word was passed through the camp that the sons of King Alegar had called a Moot of the entire army for the morning.
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