Some random battle thing I though up.

Sometimes, when i'm bored, I think about this fictional setting I thought up, and make up this sort of story. I've come up with so much, I decided to share it. Here we go:

Part I
"The Beginning"

Marcus took a deep breath to clear his head. A great battle was about to begin. The barbarians numbered in the hundreds of thousands, they completely surrounded the great fortress-city of Altus. Altus was a city built with its back to a steep mountain range. It had four layers of massive walls, each larger than the last. Great catapults topped each tower. The walls were adorned with huge ballistae to throw massive rocks and long iron bolts at any attacking force. The first, smallest, wall, known as The Praelium Wall, was marvelously tall and thick, with the outer edge facing the enemy smoothed down to allow no handgrips to aide in scaling it. Its gates, The Litis Gates were made of cast iron, reinforced with steel bars and an intricate system of counter-weights and locks. Altus was a formidable fortress indeed.

The Barbarians had always been enemies of the Altusians, they were jealous of the Altusians civilization and ingenuity. Now, they came to take out their anger with a massive host of warrior men. Over 450,000 men with hundreds of catapults, siege towers, and ladders. In contrast, the Army was Altus was a mere 25,000 men. Marcus was one of those 25,000

Marcus was tall and thin, but still muscular and tough. An average soldier in the Altusian Army, he wore a bronze breastplate and pauldrons, with leather greaves to protect his shins. On his head was a tall, bronze helm with a nodding horsehair crest. He was armed with a long, ashen spear with a steel tip, a long iron sword and a large, wooden, round shield reinforced with a layer of bronze. There were thousands such warriors in Altus, and Marcus wondered, would they be enough?

The barbarians were in sharp contrast to the orderly, disciplined, uniform forces of Altus. They wore whatever they could find and were armed with anything ranging from swords and spears to hatchets and farm implements. The only professional part of the barbarian army was the King’s Guards, which Marcus could see in the middle of the barbarian army. They numbered 10,000 men, with 100 reserved as King Andalus’ personal bodyguard. Each had a brass helm, a shirt of iron rings, a large round shield of thick oak, a long spear and a broad sword.

King Andalus rode in a chariot in front of his forces. Marcus spotted him because of the 100 King’s Guards accompanying him and the richness of his equipment. He wore a hauberk of gilded mail, with a bronze shield inlaid with silver and a sword covered in gold dust. A very decadent man. He shouted in the cruel barbarian tongue to his eager forces. If you could understand the barbarian tongue, this is what you would have heard:
“Honourable Warriors, the hour is at hand! We will lay low the towers of the fat Altusians, lazily lounging on their beds! They become fat and slothful, we are strong and virile, we will win! Go now, to conquest and the spoils of war!”

The barbarians were excited by this speech to the point of ecstasy; they chanted and banged weapons on shields. Andalus raised his gilded sword, they shouted even more. Time seemed to stand still for a moment; the barbarian King swung his sword towards Altus, and the 450,000 men of the barbarian hordes surged forward, eager to battle, rape, destruction and conquest.
“And so it begins” Marcus said quietly to himself

Quite a nice beginning there, Eric, a bit (or very much) RTW-esque. :wink: This is very much an epic story in all parts: huge attacking army, small (comparatively) defending army, colossal fortifications and so on. However, it is a bit, well...one-dimensional. I think there ought to be a bit more detail, such as who is Marcus and a bit more background to the story. If Altus is so rich (demonstrated by the size of the fortifications), how did it let its enemy penetrate so deep into its lands, attacking the city of Altus itself? Is Altus powerful? How come the barbarians are so wealthy?

There should be a story of his childhood.
Was he taught by anyone?
Did the barbarians become rich by conquest or economic-based wealth?
What does Atlus look like?

Part II
"The First Day"
Thousands of bowstrings twanged in unison as the archers of Altus opened fire on the onrushing enemy. At the same time, the hundreds of catapults and ballistae let loose with urns of flaming oil and pitch which shattered with a plume of flame when it struck the ground, charring and burning all-unfortunate enough to be caught by it. The wave of arrows and urns darkened the sun itself before it came down in a shrill rush upon the surge of barbarians. Men screamed as they were killed and horribly wounded by arrow and flame. The fires killed hundreds, but for every man who died, 10 would take his place. Soon the barbarians were at the walls. Immediately the Altusian siege engineers went to work. They poured great vats of pitch and oil onto the barbarians, a flaming arrow was loosed and a great wall of fire sprang up in front of the walls. Urged on by their leaders, and too eager and stupid to know any better, the barbarians ran right into the flames. This did not stop them from flinging up scaling ladders and beginning their escalade. Lumbering slower than the ladders were the great siege towers, high as the walls and sheathed in wet animal hides to protect from fire.

Marcus glanced up at the flag of Altus; a sable standard emblazoned with a golden sun and a silver crescent moon, and braced himself for combat. Immediately a barbarian sprung in front of him from the scaling ladder, brandishing a two-handed ax, Marcus lunged forward with his spear and took the barbarian in the throat, the force sent the poor man tumbling over the battlements and down onto his companions below. Turning left, Marcus met another foe charging him with a great broadsword, sheltering himself behind his shield, Marcus flipped the man overtop of him and finished him off with a stab in the gut. Leaving his spear imbedded in the man’s stomach, Marcus drew his blade and began to hack and slash through the enemy ranks, his sword rose and fell again and soon it was covered in the black blood of barbarians

The engineers were at work again, they had great logs on the battlements, each log was covered with daggers embedded blade up in the wood or rags soaked in pitch. The pitch logs were set aflame and then, in unison, the engineers rolled the logs over the battlements and down onto the enemy below. Their screams rent the air, as they were crushed, stabbed and burnt.

It went like this for hours, the barbarian horde swarmed around the walls of Altus, they were testing it, testing it for a weak point, if they found one, they would concentrate their assault there and if they broke through, they would swarm all over Altus like ants on a carcass.

In the corner of his eye, Marcus noticed a group of barbarian warriors trying to capture a catapult, if they captured the tower and the catapult, they would be able to turn the catapult on the second and third walls and the tower would act as a temporary base for them as they attacked further into the city. Clearly, the battle was in the balance. Marcus raced over and took the first barbarian down with a stab between the shoulder blades, more Altusians swarmed to the tower; the barbarians did not stand a chance and were cut down without mercy. Marcus seized the barbarian flagpole from it’s dying bearer and tossed it like a javelin into the attacking ranks, it took a charioteer through the chest.

The battle raged all day, thousands of barbarians died charging the walls. Great deeds innumerable were preformed on both sides. It would take days to tell of everything, of all the great deeds of valour and courage, of how Marcus cut down a barbarian chieftain and his entire bodyguard as they sprang down from a siege tower, of how Aurelius, Lord of the Altusian fiefdom of Bellum killed 80 warriors before being killed himself by a wayward arrow, or how Nubian, King of the distant allied kingdom of Abyssus had killed a 7-foot giant of man by the name of Amplus in single combat. It would be a day that would live in legend. The First Day of the Barbarian Siege of Altus.

Part III
“The Night of Fire”

As dusk settled on Altus, the barbarians withdrew beyond bowshot of the wall. They dragged the bodies of the slain behind them in great wains, while the men of Altus taunted them. Tens of thousands had died within the first hour of the battle, cut down by the merciless arrows of Altus. Bodies lay thick upon the fields, so many dead in some places that you could not see the grass or shrubs underneath, so many had died. Still, more came; Hundreds of thousands more came over the river, reserves sent to reinforce the main host.

Altus was built with its back to a mountain range rich in marble, consequently, much of the city’s Romanesque or Greciansque buildings were constructed of it, so that on a clear, peaceful day the city would glimmer in the sun like polished pearl or ivory. The smaller buildings, owned by poorer folk, were made of normal stone, brick or wood. In front of the city was a wide plain, normally covered in little hamlets and villages and homesteads. Now the air was filled with a great reek as the barbarians burned the villages and fields, raping and looting as they went, this permission was given to them by Andalus to make up for their inability to capture Altus that day.

Beyond the Altusian Fields was a wide, swift flowing river, Necos was its name and it ran from the mountains of the west to the eastern seas. Beyond the river was a harsh land of hills, rocks, mountains and plains, the Barbarian Lands it was called and it was inhabited by the Barbarian Tribes, a race of stout, wild haired warriors and hunters united under King Andalus of the Menon tribe. To the east was the kingdom known as Arneas, a tall, grey-eyed race of Men who had close relations to what would best be called Elves. Of course, these were not the fair, tree-loving fairy Elves that you would think in these ignorant times, the elves of those days were indeed tall and fair, and long-lived, though mortal, and skilled in all manners of crafts and construction, but they loved the mountains and the sea. They lived in the Acani Mountains to the southeast, and they delved great cities and harbors into the sides of the mountains and they built great ships, faster and stronger than any else of this world. To the south of Acani mountains was an area of highlands and foothills, it was called Abyssus and was always close to Arneas, the Abyussians were a kind people, but were fierce in war and Altus would need their help in this war. Further, behind the Elfaer Mountains against which Altus was built, was a fair, green land of rolling hills and vast plains. Here was a kingdom known as Taegras, and its people were called the Taegrians, a valiant, warlike and numerous people who fought with kite shields and spears, and had horses like no other men of this world. Finally, at the base of the western mountains was a vast land of forest and jungle, and this place was inhabited by the stout people best called dwarves. They had evolved so small and with such strong limbs to scale the trees and make their homes in the lofty canopy of the forest and they bothered little of any of the Wars of Men and Elves and were a peaceful people.

Marcus was tired at the end of the day, and wounded. There was a cut above his eye from a dagger, and deep gash caused by a spear in his side, so before he retired to his barracks on the fourth level, he first went to the infirmary to have his wounds bound. He limped through the streets, leaning against his spear. All around him the wounded walked, limped and crawled to the infirmary and to the many doctors who had come out to the treat the badly wounded that couldn’t get to the infirmary. He tumbled into the small, brick building and was layed down on a comfortable bed. Marcus’ wounds were filled with a special salve made of herbs that grew around Altus and then bound tightly with clean bandages. Marcus was out and about in less than 20 minutes. Thanking the healers and doctors profusely, Marcus grabbed his equipment and hurried out of the infirmary.

From the walls, Marcus looked out upon the desolation wrought by the barbarians. A great stench choked him. The villages and hamlets were in flames, the fields of corn and wheat were being cut to feed the great horde. Grass fires were lit and fanned in the direction of the city. Great bonfires sprang up and around them, the warriors danced, singing songs in their cruel tongue. Great trenches filled with flaming hay were dug to prevent them from being swept away with a sudden onset of cavalry in the night. There were sounds of screeching metal and chopping wood as the barbarians prepared yet more siege engines. The Siege had begun. The fate of Altus and the fate of the civilized world hung in the balance. For if, Altus fell, the Gates of the South would be open and the barbarians would sweep through the land, burning, killing and raping as they went. Only one race was getting out of this alive.

Use instead of consecutive Posts - Mimirswell