Ethica: Medieval Warfare - Skirmish in Pine Valley Woods

[GrievousKhan]

Out of the frying pan...

As Zubili charged in for the mortal wound, his wily opponent pulled another move from their bag of tricks. Before he could plunge his blade into the witches chest, her double suddenly burst into silvery light, coating the front of her body in some kind of dubious materiel. What ever sorcery was at work proved potent enough to render the Gybahdin's attack harmless as sparks flew freely from the impact area. The recoil left a pause to the Red Sand warrior, as he back paddled and quickly gathered his thoughts. He had seen no gestures or spoken words of power, yet it was obvious some sort of magic had been used. It seemed his opponent needed no spell components, such simply broke the arcane laws of the realm Zubili knew so well. An enemy so dangerous needed to be put down as quickly as possible and without mercy. Zubili need an entirely different method of attack while his enemy was coated in her indestructible shield, even with his momentum from his charge and the power behind his spell giving him the strength of three men, he still had not made a dent in this strange magic.

As Zubili reassessed his opponent had already flung something out from the pouches she wore at her waist. First a handful of a powdery substance Zubili quickly ducked behind his shield as the powder fell against it and over his form. He squinted his eyes closed cursing his enemy and their dirty tricks, even while they dared to taunt him. The thrown powder however held little effect aside from stunning him for a short moment, as he was covered in complete lamellar and cloth. However he almost missed the caltrops until he blindly stepped on one as he cautiously moved forward hoping to keep the women in a respectable distance from him and in range of his longer reaching weapon. He yelped in pain as his right foot meet one of the discarded caltrops and jumped back looking down to see the ground now littered strongly to his right side leading to his opponent. Such fiendish devices were used often to slow down the advance of horses, war beast, and even human troops. The Empire made some use of them against the mounted forces of Gybahdin. He stepped back from the bed of spikes as his opponent fled backwards. The spiked implement had caused some pain but nothing devastating that would take him out of the fight, it's purpose and along with the powder all meant to stall pursuit.

However distance also served Zubili just fine, "Burn whore."

Having pulled back slightly, he dropped his glaive while the same hand shot toward his belt. Wasting little time he grabbed hold of a roughly oval shaped ceramic pot at his waist, tucked in then quickly throw it forward with a side hand toss. The pot would soar forward covering the steadily growing few feet between them in moments. It would land just a foot in front of the women which upon impact would promptly burst into a small explosion of fiery flames. The burning oil would fly in numerous directions like leaping flies of flame, lighting the ground at her feet in fire and coating her form in burning liquid, as she was easily in the splash range. Zubili himself quickly jumped back and shielded his eyes from the flash of light as the pot exploded. Zubili would wait to see how his foe reacted to this attack, having run back riding the momentum of his attack earlier, moving to her right was now no longer even an option, having now moved beyond the gap between the two mantlets to her right, and the long ditch and stakes to her left still bared any attempt at an escape in that direction. It seemed ironic in her rush to flee she had run her self into a dead end. Only an incredible burst backward might she at least survive.

[ImportantNobody]

"Where he go?" Evvie questioned to herself, but spoke out loud enough for her opponent to hear her, although she was completely unaware of this fact. She never considered that he could have gotten into the tree, so she was looking all around besides where he was. "Grr...that coward," she pouted, stamping her foot and making a grumpy face. She was interrupted by what she believed to be the sound of a creature that she had heard a couple times before....one of those long slithery things that tries to bite her? They weren't much of a threat but she still had to be careful around them. She searched the ground around her feet but found no such creature to be around after all. That was odd. Maybe she had frightened it away like she did that man? She made a grin about her success and let her guard down. She turned around and in a flash she felt cold metal tighten around her throat, taking her completely by surprise. She tried to let out a gasp, but it was cut short as the pressure increase immensely as she felt her bare feet leave the ground. She grasped at the chain with both hands to try and break or pull it off, but it was clearly too tough for her to do any good that way. With that option gone she waved her arms around wildly in all directions to try and find a branch that she could grab on to, as she had been pulled upwards. A few twigs uselessly snapped off into tiny pieces, as well as a larger one about the width of her forearm, so without anything to grab on to for support she decided to just chunk that snapped off branch toward the man's general location. She then reached back towards her crushed throat instinctively now that her hands had nothing else that they could do right now.

What about her feet? She was too disoriented to know for sure but she could assume that his head would be somewhere near her feet. She began kicking wildly every which way. She was quite strong, so a nice good kick to his head could force him to lose his grip if she luckily managed to get a hit. She'd keep kicking as long as she was able, but all this physical exhaustion would take it's toll on her if she didn't break free quickly. Also, her lungs were now beginning to burn for air.

[Skallagrim]

Odd Happenstances

Lars watched the man, carrying two swords running as fast as his frame would allow. It was obvious the man had little actual knowledge of dealing with horse mounted combat. It was definitely clear the man had ridden horses little as his knowledge base showed the ineptitude and inexperience of someone, who had never been run down by a skilled equestrian. Slushy ground was little concern to a horse, for if it hampered a horse it would hamper a man running worse and judging by the speed the man ran, it clearly was not as mucky, nor mushy as he would have hoped.
Then the man made a fatal mistake, one that clearly showed his lack of fighting skilled riders. He stopped, and placed both swords in one hand to draw a dagger from his back. There however the distance that he stopped to draw this dagger was one that the horse could cover in a heartbeat, the destrier urged forward covered the 48 feet -quickly. Then the man actually got into a throwing stance while walking backwards…all things that made little sense in slick and mucky ground.

Had he thought he had the strength to kill a horse with a shot to the head? Clearly the man was a delusional fool otherwise he would have to have the strength of a troll to do such a thing. And if he were to throw a dagger with that force he would not be moving, nor be able to move in time before the spear point plunged into his chest, for simple physics of throwing weapon required you not move while torquing your body and arm to throw the weapon.

Any skilled armsman would know the range of a throwing knife to be effective is 15-20 feet depending on the weight of course. A horse covers 17 feet a second in a trot and 35 feet in a gallop. The length of the spear being 11-feet including the tip meant that the man was well within range when everything was said and done. Everyone knows when throwing a knife to keep your eye on the bulls-eye and to throw overhand with a follow through. To put it in layman's terms, throwing a knife is like throwing a ball. The thrower keeps his eye on the spot where he wants the ball to go then follows through after the release. No matter what one must follow through.

And that follow through exposed the man to the 13-inches of tempered steel that would meet his exposed chest and left arm. The arm that must surely be holding both of his swords as the man had not put them down. Of course, the terrible truth of throwing knives is that hitting a moving target and not a static target can interfere with the rotation of the thrown weapon. Even an expert knife thrower will tell any layman that when throwing at a moving target, you can miss, you might not hit a vital area, the knife might not hit in the right orientation (ie hit with an unsharpened side), and of course the knife might not penetrate deep enough. Against a moving target there is too much potential for failure at close range.

The horse neighed as the hilt of the knife smacked sickly into its head, bouncing up and over the horse, clattering against the shield and falling into the mucky ground where the muck covered it. Now that the man had thrown the dagger, logic would dictate that the speed of the horse and the length of the spear should by strike, since the man was now trying to dive away. Lars clenched his knees tightly and wrenched on the reins to the left, allowing the spear to swing and follow through on the stab to the man’s left arm and exposed body.

Rolling in the muck and mire would require a clear space, and if there was a clear space for the man to roll, the horse would follow. Spear rocketing forward to strike with precision for if the man rolled the point would enter the exposed back, if he dived the exposed left side somewhere between shoulder and oblique muscles. The horse would trample the man as well since he dove into the muck, and if so it must surely hamper his gaining sure footing, especially with two-swords.

[Alphakoka]

Fandor slowed down several meters from the mantlet as he calmed down and realized he won't be able to break through it with only his weight alone. He side-stepped to his right in an effort to bypass the mantlet, confident that between his shield and armor he would be safe from any ranged assault. Once he passed the mantlet, he returned to his chase after the Raven's orc while holding his shield to protect his head and upper body.

[MelonHead]

The moment Fandor’s charge slowed to a crawl and he looked up to take stock of the situation, a bolt was already loosed and hurtling through the air with immense speed as Dorm went for the relatively easy shot at his opponent’s head. If the distance had been any more significant than the thirteen feet he was set against, it would have been a difficult and unwise shot. However as it was the crossbow bolt would be near unavoidable even if the slack-jawed Redwold spotted the fast moving projectile through the slits in his full helm before it was too late to turn back on his decision to look over the shield.

The shot over the four foot high Mantlet was an easy one for Dorm, but three paces behind it and an impressive height necessary to make the shot. The moment the bolt was loosed he stepped forward two paces and propped his weapon down behind the mantlet, looking at the Redwold warrior if the bolt had pierced his helm and ended his life he would reload the crossbow. If it had been ineffective somehow, and the brute was able to react faster than he thought possible he would shrug the kite shield from his back and into his left hand, while he drew his sword with his now free right hand and settled into a defensive stance behind the mantlet.