Amare Internellis - Jehan de Challon
"I wouldn't worry about it lad." Jasper told the young armored knight.
"You did what you said you would, I tol' ye tha' yew were under my protection." Jasper grinned at Jehan, padding the back of the tired young knight who had just managed to get himself together and returned with a courteous nod.
Scoping the field ahead of them, Amare saw the second line or orcs slowly begin to approach the team. By the looks of it, they were certainly more armored than the last lot, almost in full scaled armor which to Amare meant that they had been brought up as some of the better warriors in this battle, having been reserved for last. The first wave had just been cannon fodder, easily disposable for the more ready, and experienced warriors. The ashen haired warrior hoped yet again that not many comrades shared the same fate. Already being tired from the last wave, Amare knew he must preserve his energy, whatever left he had of it. It was there that he would have to recover from the heavy blows delivered from the larger Great-sword-yielding orc from the last predicament as the rest of the orc army march towards their lines. Not to far from him in the human militia, was something he had never seen before: A dancer on the field? Amare had heard of such strange martial artists from around the world, though not ever seeing it for himself as they were told in the same stories often old my eager young men gathering around campfires. While recovering his strength, he looked towards the beautiful, well-dressed dancer, gracefully minding her own business during the course of the battle.
"What is this, a royal ballroom?" Amare said to himself, thinking nobody heard his doubtful sentiment again.
"I would not doubt her lad." Jasper chuckled, still gasping for air as he cleaned his long bastard sword.
"She is still alive, after all of this time. Give the lass some credit to where it's due." Amare nodded, realizing that his band of fellow countrymen where definitely able to defend themselves against a formidable foe such as the orc as demonstrated in the last wave. Though the second wave would soon be the ultimate test, and Amare had hoped this girl was as good as a dancer as she was a fighter, for the small army needed as many troops as they could preserve. As the second, more formidable wave of orcs approached the small army, the young knight, who had been saved by Jasper, gave yet another order.
"Focus on the halberdier, press him, get close kill him. Henri and I will keep the axeman and spearmen busy." Jehan said, as he rotated the poleaxe. The hammer would be far better for the armoured orcs that were coming at them now.
"If you shall ever need help again." Jasper said yet again in a serious tone.
"Don't be afraid to call upon us." With that, both men nodded. Jehan may have not been the greatest knight he had ever seen, though he was clever, valiant, and bold. Amare grabbed the shield he dropped a few feet behind him before the first wave, knowing it would help guard himself against the more heavily armored footmen that was soon to approach them. Fighting a few armored men before, he knew this would have to be a battle he would have to out maneuver his opponent or defend himself and look for openings to cause superficial wounds in the exploits of their armors, wearing the orc down and perhaps beating the armor with the pommel of his sword though with his shield, that would be tricky though it would certainly help his guard.
"We should wear them down. Our swords are hardly any use of slashing that armor unless we are sly enough to cut through their openings." Amare suggested to Jasper.
"Aye" Jasper agreed.
"Keep feinting, wear them out, and the rest will soon turn out in our favor. If we're both clever enough. You will make it out of this hell alive, I assure you." With those last words, the armored orc line charged, forcing Jasper's boys backward. These were certainly more aggressive than the last batch, applying hard pressure, using their strength in an attempt to overpower them. Amare lifted his shield which was taken a heavy blow to by the Halberdier. Jasper, standing five feet from Amare, stepped in and swung his pommel at the orc which was to be served as a heavy blow to the orc's head, maybe passing him out had he not slipped the old man's powerful swing of steel. The orc returned with a potentially heavy blow to the old man, had he not parried. The orc was both fast and strong, they noticed, it was lucky they had two men fighting him rather than one. Amare had hoped that Jehan and Henri could match the two fores they left themselves to handle.
After the blow the orc delivered to Jasper, Amare thrust his sword towards the orc's exposed armor just below the leg, missing as the orc had managed to dodge the stinging sword by kicking at Jasper, forcing him him on his behind. The young mercenary knew that if he didn't act now, Jasper would soon and surly be having brutal steel dig into his skin by his aggressor. He thrust his sword yet again, poking him with a painful string that pierced a superficial wound on the orc's thigh. The orc roared menacingly as Amare began stepping forward and applying pressure to the orc, keeping it distracted form Jasper. Jasper rolled behind Amare towards safety as he gathered himself together from that steel boot that kicked his tried old hip. The orc was beginning to lower his guard, which meant that the young, ashen-haired mercenary could deliver more punishment towards the torso and to the head if he could successfully tire him out though he would have to do it quickly.
The young mercenary struggled, trying to maintain his distance all while dominating the orc in terms of speed while the same shred of advice given to him by his trainer echoed in his head.
if you aren't strong, be fast, it echoed once more. Though the orc was also notably fast on his feet, it was the weight of the armor that slowed him down just enough to where Amare knew he had an advantage. Near him, Amare could hear the sound of an orc laughing near him. It was an ugly, brutal, and menacing laugh as orcs usually sounded.
That wasn't good he thought to himself, though he could not look behind him, fearing he would be distracted and take a devastating blow.
"I believe the young lad needs my help again." Jasper said, running towards the aid of Jehan.
Jehan watched the orc as it moved. He needed an opening to drive his sword through something vital. But he had to create that opening first, but this orc was not falling for his tricks and while he could land hits, they were as the orc's blows against him, soaked up by the armour. The air inside his helmet was hot, and it felt terribly stale. Through the breaths of his helmet he could see his poleaxe on the ground. If only he could get a hold of it.
His thoughts were interrupted as the orc attacked again. Jehan parried and attacked, but once again the blow led to nothing. Then, through one of his sights he saw Jasper running up behind the orc. Jehan feinted at the orc, to take up the orc's attention who only noticed Jasper once he planted his sword in the back of the orc's knee.
The orc roared in pain and rage and half fell, half turned as he swung his axe at Jasper, completely forgetting Jehan in his fury. Jehan stepped in, guiding the point of his sword to the orc's armpit. He stabbed with all the force he could, driving the sword in deep. The orc did not die at once, but it did not take long. Jehan withdrew his sword from the orc and opened his visor to see what was going on. The fresh air was a blessing. Though the sight of the battlefield was not. Henri lay on the ground not far away, with Johannes kneeling over him. Jehan wished to go there, to save his squire. Yet, he could not just leave the battle, as this was the nature of all battles. Men died. Friends, family, brothers; they died and you had to keep going. Jehan turned, and followed Jasper back to Amare to finish off the last orc.
Just after being left alone to contend with the orc, the beast managed to return the massive and equal amount of aggression on Amare just as the young mercenary had done earlier in order to save Jasper. The tall and armored orc, sung rapidly, wildly again - each swing being either dodged or parried, causing a violent vibration each time steel struck steel. It was like thunder striking soft ground, and there was only so much Amare could take before the sword might just slip out of his tight and now weakening grasp. With every potentially lethal blow, Amare tried to find an opening, knowing he had to act fast before the strong orc would overpower him, he would have to act aggressively if he were to punish the orc with a finishing blow, the ashen-haired mercenary could not be in a defensive position forever.
The orc swung and swung, each time striking a formidable blow, though with each second that past, Amare felt his stamina slowly begin to regain, all while the large orc was losing his own. With three blows, the orc then resided, choosing to utilize the rest of his energy to defend himself rather than playing the aggressor. Amare would have to press him again. Taking control of the field, the young mercenary thrust his sword five times at the orc, each time being parried though each time being slowly defended by the orc. Finally, with just one more thrust, the orc's guard was finally penetrated when Amare finally had dominated the orc in terms of speed, his long bastard sword sliding into the exposed area of the green skinned orc's neck. In an attempt to dodge the attack, the orc in return tilted his head, though not fast enough before a good two inches of steel quickly dug into his thick skin, barely slicing through the jugular vein.
Despite this lethal attack, the orc still managed to stand on his two feet, barely managing to defend himself against the armed 'lanky' young mercenary. His arms were like lead, his body wry, but still he kept on that lethal attack as a small fountain of blood began to spray from his neck from the moment of impact. Amare swung and parried, but suddenly by surprise, the orc somehow managed to fish Amare within a closer proximity, almost as if the armored orc wanted him to take the finishing blow. With the speed of lightening, the orc grabbed the bastard-sword from the ashen-haired mercenary, though before Amare could yank it from his steel hands, the orc smacked the long steel blade from Amare's hand using his halberd, rendering him unarmed.
How the hell? Amare thought audaciously. His speed in those presumed last few seconds of his life were tremendously unreal. Without hesitation, the orc, with blood falling from his thick green neck, raised his halberd with an abrupt and believable speed that Amare knew he could not dodge. In attempt to block this attack, Amare hovered his arms towards his face and watched as the long halberd, swung targeting his face. He was not fast enough to dodge it and closed his eyes, watching the halberd as it inevitably approached his unarmed guard. His life flashed before his eyes, and soon time seemed to fade as it drew nearer and nearer to him.
For a moment, Amare had thought he was dead, but upon hearing a clang of steel in front of him, the young mercenary lifted his tired eyes to see that Jasper was standing in front of him, his sword awkwardly held in front of him. The old man had been hit. Amare ran behind him to fetch the sword the orc had parried from his tired hands just a few feet from where he was standing, helplessly watching the old man fight off this ferocious beast with whatever strength he had left. Picking up his sword, Amare quickly ran back to see Jasper being stabbed by the long sharp tip of the halberd. Jasper grunted as four inches of steel sank into his fat belly under his boiled leather armor. The orc wrenched his weapon, sawing at the old man as if he were gutting a pig. Jasper clinched the haft of the orcs weapon, and looked at Amare as he was running towards his aid, nodding his head as if he were saying,
Go on lad, he's all yours. His tight grasp, was enough to were the orc could not remove the four inches of steel from the old man's belly. Jehan ran by Jasper's side, having arrived before Amare just a few seconds earlier.
It had all happened so quickly. Jasper and Jehan had run to Amare's aid and now Jasper was stuck on a halberd, awkwardly trying to keep the weapon there. Jehan rushed past, advancing on the orc before he could tear his weapon from Jasper's gut. The orc tried, failed, panicked and did not let go of the weapon. Jehan raised his sword, and swung a downwards stroke as he stepped around the orc, aiming for the back of the knee. The orc roared and finally let the halberd fall. Jehan smashed the pommel and part of his own gauntlet into the orc's face. Once. Twice. The orc fell to the ground. Again, the orc had fallen quickly, for a defenceless orc would not stand much longer then a defenceless man. Though this one was not dead yet, only stunned. Jehan looked at Amare and fished his rondel dagger from his belt. He offered it to Amare, hilt first.
Amare blinked for a long second, blood beginning to flow down from his head, it was a considerable gash, though it could not feel it. For a while, the battlefield seemed to have died down and most likely winning in the favor of the newly gathered militia. He looked at the shinning rondel dagger and took it from the nobleman's offering grasp and looked down at the once strong and confident, now pathetic and vulnerable warrior. With one thrust of the dagger, Amare plunged the shiny steel dagger into the orc's throat and finished the cut he was supposed to finish just a few moments ago, leaving a red mess that flowed from under his armor.
As the orc died, Johannes, Vincent and Adrian came running. Vincent and Adrian went to help Jasper. Not that it was much they could do, other then drag him back behind the lines. Jehan knew enough that such a would kill a man, painfully unless they simply bled out. He watched as they brought away the man, and there was a pang of sorrow for the old man. He never knew the man for longer then this battle, but he liked the old man. He turned back to Johannes.
Johannes looked pale, shaking slightly.
"Henri is dead My Lord." Johannes said softly. Jehan could tell the young boy was holding back tears. The valets and squire had been close, Jehan knew that much. Jehan felt his own throat go tight. Henri had been a good squire. Diligent, patient and skilled. He would have become a great knight in his time, greater then Jehan. But now, that would never happen.
Jehan nodded and took his poleaxe that Johannes offered to him. He could see that Johannes' hands were covered in blood, Henri's blood. Johannes took his longsword and wiped it off before returning it to Jehan's scabbard. The sorrow they both felt for Henri, could not be expressed now. That had to come later, both valet and knight understood this.
"Thank you Johannes" Jehan said simply and turned back to Amare, as Vincent and Adrian also returned to them. They were out of arrows, but even without arrows his archers could be deadly. Both had bucklers, though while Adrian had a sword, Vincent had chosen a mace with his buckler. Mace and buckler was a bit odd, but he supposed it could work.
For a while, everything seemed to be painfully quiet as the clanging of steel against steel were still thundering throughout the battlefield. Though they were in no danger at the moment, the ashen-haired young mercenary could feel his heart still thumping violently from of his chest, reminding him of the anxiety that battle brings young soldiers all while feeling that bleak moment of sorrow, knowing that the old man who kept his optimism alive during the last two weeks could easily succumb from his wounds as he bled profusely from his belly while a medic in the distance treated his wounds nearby. As the battle went on, the team held their position, awaiting any order that could arise from a commanding officer, though for the moment, there seemed to be very little action going on as the end of this arduous and bloody battle seemed all the more nigh.
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