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Thread: [SS 6.4] To Change our Fate: Reforging Sicily with Steel and Heart ~Chapter 24, 1/2/13~

  1. #61

    Default Re: [SS 6.4] To Change our Fate, a Sicilian AAR

    Quote Originally Posted by robinzx View Post
    That was..unexpected.
    Please, good sir, do explain yourself

    Edit: Next update will have to come in 2hours at minimum

    Further Edit: Sorry guys, but I'll have to belay that. I'm using the airport's computer terminals because my laptop is out of battery (can't find plug to charge anywhere O_O) and it auto-logs out after 10 minutes. So...can't do much here. Will update when my laptop is serviceable again.
    Last edited by Swaeft; December 13, 2012 at 05:47 PM.

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  2. #62

    Default Re: [SS 6.4] To Change our Fate, a Sicilian AAR

    Character Background Information
    Spoiler Alert, click show to read: 
    Sir Fallen: A young man from Palermo, Knighted at the Chapel of Palermo. He never knew his parents as they abandoned him when he was much younger. He was brought up by a veteran Knight who adopted him, and almost everything our Hero knows about swordsmanship, fighting and the like was taught by his guardian, the Knight. Our Hero enjoys adventuring and freedom, and dislikes authority, especially nobles that rule unfairly with an iron fist. Has good knowledge about swordplay, but other than a wooden spear, our Hero knows nothing about other weapons. Has grasped a slight amount of knowledge about farming after observing the Peasants work in their fields. Has also developed a reputation for defending the Peasantry from unreasonable people of higher status.

    Captain Bartolomeo: A Knight appointed by Duke Guiskard to lead the army towards Al-Mahdiya. A staunch supporter of the Duke, he always obeys Duke Guiskard's orders to the letter, seeking to gain promotion and higher status. He does not care much about the life of the common man in the army, something that tells in his battle tactics and haste to attack.

    Donald: Blacksmith working in Palermo. Has made his fair share of weapons, and as such the ones he and his friends carry are of better quality than the average man in the army. This is his first time being drafted into the army.


    Important Logistical References
    Spoiler Alert, click show to read: 
    South Sicilian Army: An army under the command of Duke Simone Guiskard of Syracuse. It has been commissioned into service just a month ago. At full strength it numbers almost a thousand and a half men. Its objectives are to make the settlements of Tunis, Al-Mahdiya and Tripoli bow to the rule of the Kingdom of Sicily.


    I went back to the docks. The boat I had taken here was gone. I sighed heavily. Some idiot must have sailed it back to Al-Mahdiya to report to the captain when I left the ship alone. Muttering curses under my breath, I wheeled about and came face to face with Duke Guiskard's personal ship. Smiling, I strode towards the ship, the desert winds carrying sand and the occasional tuft of grass towards me.

    "Is anyone here?" No reply was given. Oh well, the ship will be more peaceful without anyone else.

    The Duke's ship was faster. In two hours, I caught sight of Al-Mahdiya. It was a very different sight than when I left it almost ten hours ago. Smoke billowed from the many rooftops, and much of the road leading to the town itself was covered in dust and sand. It was late afternoon, and the winds were strong, filling the sails of the Duke's ship, spurring it onward. I adjusted the sails as necessary to fit the course. If the attack on the walls had started, it meant that I had arrived too late. I quivered at the thought. I fearfully gazed at the scene before me, and cursed all those who had delayed this. I cursed the Duke for not relenting in the duel earlier. I cursed the light morning wind, which did naught to help my journey to Tunis. I cursed myself for not bringing our duel to an end earlier.

    When I drew close enough to the siege camp, I realized that the town had indeed been attacked by the Sicilian Army. Dust swirled around the gate entrance as our men stormed the gate with one of the wooden rams.

    I quickly docked at the fishing village and started the twelve mile run to the siege camp. Before I had even gone a mile, my legs were already protesting against the strain I was placing them under, and my heavy armor was weighing me down. My iron greaves cast deep depressions in the sand which were swept away by the emotionless desert wind instants later. That made me think of the chilly Saharan wind which I had first experienced at Tunis. Temperatures could fall beneath ten degrees, and I knew that if I had to die, I wasn't going to die freezing and alone. I was already tired from the duel with the Duke, and even though the Sun was going down soon, it still burned brightly in the evening sky, and cast long shadows over the dunes, making my life harder. I finally hunkered down behind a dune, resting in the shade while the Sun continued basking its rays and scorching the Earth. How was I ever going to get to the camp in time to warn the Captain, or failing to do so, survive the chilly night without a fire?

    As I wallowed in self pity and desperation, I heard a familiar neigh above the whirls of the wind. I peeked out from behind the dune, and received a pleasant surprise. "Well, there you are. What are you doing down there, eh? Looking for crabs?" I laughed and exchanged a look of gratitude. It was almost as if God had sensed my plight, the plight of the Sicilians, and pointed Donald in the right direction, in order to save our lives and change our fate. Donald dipped his head slightly to accept my thanks, then he handed me the reins of Swaeft from atop his own horse. I gratefully accepted it. "Man, you look beat." Donald suggested. "Here, take this." He pried open his haversack and extracted a bottle of water among other things. He handed it to me, and I happily accepted it. Gulping water down my raw seventeen year throat, I flicked the reins and Swaeft galloped towards the camp.

    "How did you find me?" I wasn't sure Donald could have spotted my ship from so far away.

    "Thank yer horse." He indicated Swaeft, the brown mare still galloping gallantly, tossing his head to avoid the strands of sand flying in the air. "He started whinnying about an hour ago. The lads couldn't get him to stop. He kept neighing at something in the deserts, so the Captain finally told me to investigate. He's not a happy chap at the moment. Someone's gotta lot of explaining to do."

    I grimaced and spurred Swaeft onwards.

    The camp was a mess. Dead bodies were strewn around all over the place, and the few medical officers we had were overworked, looked dehydrated and listless. Donald and I dismounted and moved towards the officers, intending to help out. "There's more of them since I left." Donald mused.
    "WHERE IN THE BLAZES HAVE YOU BEEN?" I looked up. That could only be the Captain. As he approached, I noted that his armor was sparkling clean. He hadn't fought in the battle yet. Cowardly dog.
    He grasped me by the shoulders and punched me in the midriff. The blow slammed into my chest and the impact seemed to spread all over my abdomen and stomach. I yelped in pain, and that prompted the Captain to bring his fist down hard on my face. I tried to tilt my head to cushion the blow, but I was too tired and too slow. My head rocketed to the left under the force of his punch, and blood spurted out of a wound in my head. Donald rose in anger. "What are you doing?"

    Captain Bartolomeo released me and faced Donald, spittle flying out of his mouth as he trembled with rage.

    "Sergeant Donald. When someone tells me that he is going to the ship for supplies, I'm assuming he goes there and returns, not sail away to an unknown location and disappear for ten hours!"

    Donald backed down and looked at me with concerned eyes. He couldn't challenge the Captain's authority at this time, where he had no case to argue.

    But I did.

    I weakly reached into my pocket and fished out the crumpled letter Duke Guiskard had given me before I left Tunis. I handed it to Captain Bartolomeo. He snatched it from me in a spurt of anger, his rage still evident from the scowl on his face and his strong, aggressive movements. He almost tore the parchment in two in the process. I faded in and out of consciousness, barely managing to see Donald peeking over Captain Bartolomeo's shoulder, both of them reading the letter. I closed my eyes and tried to remember the exact words.

    Captain Bartolomeo,
    By order of Duke Guiskard, General of the South Sicilian Army, you are to maintain the siege until further reinforcements can be sent or the defenders sally out. Protecting Sir Fallen is now a top priority-he must survive. Do whatever you need to ensure victory.


    Captain Bartolomeo snorted, and Donald recoiled behind him as he turned around. "Were you peeking behind my back, Sergeant?" Bartolomeo barked. "N-no captain. " Donald muttered an excuse about helping the wounded and skulked away, giving me a wink on the way. The Captain turned towards me and cupped my face in his left hand. "So...someone sailed back to Tunis and cried to the Duke. He suddenly seems very fond of you, wouldn't you say? Well, the attack is already underway and some of the men are fighting tooth and nail in the streets. Are you going to order the men back and risk them losing their lives?"

    I looked at him and made to respond, but he cut me off swiftly. "We can win, young Knight. I don't know about you but half the Army have already engaged the enemy. They have lesser men than us, and will surely fall in due time. Since the Duke wants you protected, you can sit here and make yourself useful." His cold, heartless speech made me puke, and even though I was injured, the burning fire of anger re-ignited him my heart, sparked by this man's disgusting speech. The Captain watched as I retched and a globule of vomit and spit cascaded to the sandy ground. He glowered at me with disdain and stated, "You're not fit to fight. Sit here and be a good boy." The Captain turned around and stalked off. I attempted to rise, to say something to insult him, to do anything that would get the message across that what he was doing was horribly wrong, but I collapsed to the sandy ground in utter desperation and exhaustion.

    Weary, I lost track of time as I lay down where I had fallen, breathing heavily near the medical area while the smells of the wounded wafted thickly over the air. As I drifted in and out of consciousness and time flew by, more and more wounded and dead appeared before me, the stink of death reeking eerily in the air. It seemed as if Satan himself was leeching off the souls of the dead, his efforts leaving a trail of horrible pungent smells in their wake.

    Finally, I couldn't take it anymore. I couldn't stay here, face down against the grains of sand while my brothers fought the desert rebels for control of the province. I stood up unsteadily, shaking off white grains of sand from my tunic and armor. The sand at the gates however, were stained red with the blood of the numerous fallen. Night was going to fall soon, and if that happened, we would suffer even more casualties. I shuffled towards Swaeft, my legs being dragged against their will. My will was stronger, for now.

    I rode towards the assembly area, an open patch of sandy ground marked out by some Sicilian flags. A small group of Mailed Knights were being assembled there, and I rode towards them. Their company commander was spitting out the details of our mission. I didn't recognise anyone among the Knights. I didn't wear my iron armor, instead donning the lighter clothes of a squire, much like the ones I wore when I was a Mounted Sergeant. They didn't attempt to make conversation with me, and neither did I. The grim feeling of death and battle were present, and we silently listened to our company commander.

    "We've identified a company of Desert Archers near the town square. We need you guys to get there and destroy them. They've been setting our men alight with fire ever since three hours ago, and we need to get rid of them now." The company commander leaned towards us, and his voice deepened, the stress and fear of death echoing in every syllable he uttered. "According to the front line reports by the latest wounded back there, there's a lot of blasted rebels we're going to have to go through. It's quite likely that we won't be seeing each other again, but as long as we get rid of those pesky archers, our men on foot will have an easier day. Let's ride."

    We rode towards the gates of Al-Mahdiya. I admired the way our company commander spoke. He was one of the few honorable people whom I knew cared about the life of the common man. Comparisons with the Bourbon leaders back in Palermo presented themselves freshly in my mind, but I mentally swiped them away. The gates of Al-Mahdiya were looming ever larger in front of us, and the clashing of swords on armor and spears on shields were making quite the din. It was time to fight again.

    The Battle of Al-Mahdiya
    Spoiler Alert, click show to read: 

    VS



    We rode through the gates, and I was astounded by the amount of dead on the floor. Most were wearing only light desert garb, so I assumed that the majority of the casualties weren't ours. However, as we approached the main street towards the town square, the fighting intensified exponentially and bodies were littered all over the place, this time a significant number in Sicilian armor. Swaeft reared up slightly and carefully trotted towards a back street, taking pains to avoid stepping on the corpses of men, whether friend or foe. This was a horse with a heart.

    We passed the central area of fighting, the main street leading to the town square. Our army was clogged up there, having nowhere to move, limiting our numerical advantage and turning the fight into a costly battle of attrition. I winced inwardly upon seeing a man burn to death, a fiery painful death brought about by the hand of a rebel archer. We needed to get to them quick.


    A single banner caught my eye as we rode past the column. Our banner was bloodstained and blackened, and waved every now and then across the dark street. Our emblem was the only thing that kept our men from breaking, and I prayed it would not fall.


    We rode to a deserted side street, and thankfully no one was there to stop us or notice us. I hoped that the street would lead us straight to the rear of the rebel army stubbornly resisting our attack.


    As it turned out, the street really did lead us towards the back of the rebel resistance. But a collective sigh went up from our battle-worn company. There were too many of them for us to handle. A long heavy sigh escaped the lips of our company commander, and I knew this was it. "To the death, brave Sicilians! Onward!!!"

    I bellowed my intention out loud for all to hear, the roar bursting from my lips as I spurred Swaeft onwards.

    I could see the enemy. They were driven by the same desire as I was, to keep their men from further harm, and help their army suffer lesser casualties. I looked in their eyes, and saw none of the malice and bloodthirstiness I saw in the rebels of Tunis. They were real, decent men, fighting for their own cause. It almost made me question my desire to fight, my desire to kill these rebels. Then, they let loose another volley of flaming arrows, and amid the screams of our own Sicilians I steeled myself. One way or another these arrows had to stop hitting our men.


    Someone fell in front of me, his horse cut out from under him. He didn't rise, so I boldly spurred Swaeft onwards to engage the killer. The archer looked at me with scorn in his eyes, but with no sense of malice at all. I had no time to re-question myself as the man swung his sword at me, aiming to get me out of the battle and out of his sight with one swift strike.

    I didn't let him. I lifted my sword and sparks flew as our blades met. I leaned forwards and stabbed at the man's neck. He parried, but such was the strength of my blow, and combined with the momentum of Swaeft my blade slid clean through his neck. He eyes widened in surprise and he gurgled in pain. He clawed desperately at his neck for a few moments before succumbing to the agony.


    I proceeded to cleanse the area of the rebels, but it was clear to me we were losing. For every five men they lost, a Knight or two would fall, never to rise again. We couldn't keep this up, but I figured we were buying our Spear Militia some valuable time. I looked towards the town square, and saw that our men had gained ground. But it was so little my heart almost dropped out in fear.

    Trepidation gained a hold on me as the fight wore on. My slashes and stabs faded in strength as the initial adrenaline wore off. I remembered that I had entered this battle because I wanted to do whatever I could to help. I was lethargic and injured by my own Captain, and the exhaustion was starting to take its toll on me. I lifted my arm to block another sword strike, and even though I succeeded, my opponent's blade inched closer to my face than ever before.

    I mustered the remainder of my strength and lunged at my assailant, toppling off Swaeft in the process. He was surprised and stumbled to the ground, and I landed on top of him. Without a second thought I plunged my sword into his chest once, twice, three times. I felt as his youthful energy, his vitality and his life force seep out of him slowly, painfully slowly.

    His chest stopped heaving up and down even as his blood flowed out like the River Nile under the best influences of the moon. He lay back, eyes closed in silent prayer. "Don't go..." I begged. His head tilted sideways at an awkward angle, and I knew he was gone.

    I had had enough.

    Was this the cost of my far fetched hope of re-uniting Sicily? Was this just the beginning of a series of bloody wars I would take part in, just to ensure the Kingdom of Sicily could grow? The blood price I was paying was too high. Thirty men died for every square inch we gained.

    I gazed back at my company while lying on the floor. I needed to look at something I could rest my eyes on, something majestic to remind me of my ultimate goal and objective, of Sicilian pride and glory before I perished in this sandy wasteland.

    I saw no one.

    Many fine mounts lay dead on the floor. My company had been wiped off the face of the Earth.

    I didn't even hear the shout of the enemy general's death.


    That did it for me. I was exhausted, my limbs were aching everywhere, and droplets of blood seeped out of the many wounds in my body. I knew I was going to die here. I barely had the strength to raise my hands. I lifted my left hand, admiring the way the Sun cast shadows off it onto the ground. I spread and wiggled my fingers, feeling the last of my energy dissolve into thin air. My hand remained outstretched, reaching skywards and I prayed for forgiveness, closing my eyes for the fatal stab I knew was coming.

    Until I felt something fall into my hand and I was dragged painfully across the desert floor at great speed.

    I opened my eyes, and to add to the discomfort some sand entered at an unfortunate time.

    However, I would have gladly accepted a lot more sand entering my eyes in order to escape the battle, which was what Swaeft was doing. I held his reins in my hand, and he galloped gallantly away from the scene of battle, towards a side gate to exit the town. This brave horse was intelligent, and I vowed to write a poem or prose about it when I recovered from the shock.

    It was not meant to be.

    A hail of arrows fell all around me, presumably fired by the Desert Archers I was fleeing from. They thudded into the sand and whistled on the wind. "Aaargh!" One embedded itself in my foot, and stabbing pains erupted there. I heard a pained snort and neigh, and looked up. Swaeft was hit.

    The great beast had two arrows in his mane, and four more in his sides. Swaeft was heaving, and in obvious agony. It was in that moment, hanging from the side of Swaeft and being dragged along the dirt when I realized the true feeling of helplessness. The extreme guilt of being unable to do anything to help or intervene, was agonizing beyond words. I teared up and looked at the sky as another volley of arrows descended on us, the arrows possessing the bite of a shark and the speed of a leopard. Again I felt chunks of sand spray all over me as the arrows displaced them. Miraculously, none of them hit me.

    I couldn't say the same for Swaeft. I felt three more thuds and Swaeft whinnied in pain, but carried on. I marveled silently at the gallantry of this great beast. Blood had started to stream and ooze out of Swaeft's wounds, and soon my breastplate was filled with the blood of two specks of life locked in an epic struggle for survival. Swaeft twisted and turned, negotiating the winding streets of Al-Mahdiya. Despite our dire situation, I watched in awe as Swaeft was silhouetted against the Sun, his stark black form riding gallantly away from the bite of the arrows. My respect for Swaeft rose tenfold.

    I was knocked unconscious as Swaeft barged out of the wooden gates. Swaeft took the brunt of the blow, but that didn't do anything to lessen my pain. I was instantly revived moments later as I bounced up and down on the desert sands. Still, Swaeft did not stop.

    At that point, I couldn't think anymore. I resigned myself to fate, and gave up my soul to solace. I closed my eyes as my hair continued filling up with sandy grains of...sand. It was not until we reached the siege camp that Swaeft started slowing, but it wasn't just because Swaeft was about to reach its destination.

    Swaeft toppled to the ground, his breath coming faster and heavier now. A shout rang out from the camp, and the thunder of hooves grew louder, ringing in the parts of my ears not yet full of sand or wax. "Hey Fallen, did you lose your footing again? Ha ha---by the gods..."

    I felt the grip of an armored fist, and knew that someone had spotted me. It was Donald. "Holy cow, what the devil happened here?" Donald's fingers started lifting me up, and he shoved Swaeft to a side rather unkindly.

    "STAY AWAY FROM HIM!" I yelled out. Donald looked surprised by my outburst. "Swaeft? It's me, Donald. You're injured, I'm trying to-"

    I ignored him, my heart pounding in my ears. Swaeft lay sideways on the desert floor, his tail lacking any form of energy as it flicked left and right. I crawled towards Swaeft, and his great big eyes locked onto mine. He whinnied as he recognized me, but it came out as a soft whimper. The blood was oozing out in greater amounts now, and I frantically tore the arrows out of his body. "Don't die on me, please..."

    Swaeft whinnied again and lifted his head. He licked my bloodied face, his final act of respect for me.

    NOOOO!

    I pounded my fist into the desert, wild with rage. Swaeft was gone, its lifeless body swaying limply in the wind. I raised my fists in the direction of Al-Mahdiya as more squires came to assist Donald. "I'll kill them, I'll rip their heads off!"

    I was restrained by a young squire, who was trying to help me. I was deranged, bloodlust in my eyes. I wanted revenge. This was the second time I had lost someone close to me in the heat of battle, and yet again it was because of my incompetence. I had to demonstrate that I was worthy of being Knighted, worthy of being friends of those who had laid down their lives for me.

    But the stubborn squire would't let go. Donald tried to calm me down, but I wouldn't listen. Frustrated and angry, I took a swipe at the squire, intending to shove him away.

    I broke his nose.

    He staggered back, clutching his nose in shock. He wasn't the only one.

    What have I done? A myriad of thoughts wandered through my mind.

    I barely realized that I was pinned to the ground by other people, their voices raised in fear.

    I whimpered pathetically on the soft sand, crying my heart out for all those who had fallen. Men led me back to the tent, and Swaeft was abandoned on the desert sands, lying in the pool of blood it had created. I stared at his miserable body, and knew that it was not just. Would I want myself to be abandoned like that?

    I tore away from Donald and the squires, racing and scrambling towards Swaeft. His eyes were closed, peacefully resting somewhere above. I muttered a short prayer and started dragging his body back to the camp. Donald arrived with the squires, and seeing the demented passion in my eyes, started to help. Together, we dragged Swaeft to the camp. I shuddered with exhaustion, but I swore to honor Swaeft's memory before I passed out.

    "Help me, please." Donald nodded in understanding. From the remnants of the first ram I erected a small structure around Swaeft. It was tiny and stained with the blood from my hands, but it would have to do. I built it in the shape of a typical house, a squarish base with a pyramid-shaped top. As soon as I felt my hands put the last wooden slab into place, I heard a soft, final whinny coming from Swaeft.

    It was a soft croon of acceptance, of gratitude. I knew that Swaeft would rest in peace. I collapsed to the ground, utterly exhausted and spent.




    When night fell, news came to the camp that the day was ours. But it was at a monumental, staggering cost.


    Over a thousand Sicilians had fallen in battle, and five hundred and two would never rise again. I was there to witness the usual Sicilian burial, and as bodies were thrown into the sea, I reflected on the day's events. Today was a much tougher, bloodier and an exponentially more brutal fight than the Battle for Tunis. These rebels...

    These men. I mused. I refused to call them rebels. They fought with a passion to protect themselves and their loved ones, not with the fear of being killed such as the bandits at Tunis. As such, the resistance was fiercer and more costly for both sides.

    The South Sicilian Army was out of commission, its strength whittled down to half. Its men weary and demoralized to the point that no-one would take a step out of Al-Mahdiya. I for one, was left to recount the tragic events of the day and my harrowing brush with death.

    This was the true face of War. No mercy for the weak, no respect for the dead. Was I ready to pay the blood price and kill more multitudes of men till my goal was achieved? Could I stand the rigors and consequences of such a bloody path?

    At this point in time, my path could not have been more shrouded.
    Last edited by Swaeft; December 24, 2012 at 01:58 AM.

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  3. #63

    Default Re: [SS 6.4] To Change our Fate, a Sicilian AAR

    Now this is a good story. I decided to take a look at what you have written and I must say I am impressed. This is an incredible story, I wish I had these writing skills. You will be getting +rep for this. Although I am curious, what font do you use?

  4. #64

    Default Re: [SS 6.4] To Change our Fate, a Sicilian AAR

    Comic sans

    Loving the drama, but can't help wondering - is it possible to sail from Palermo to Africa and back within a day?
    The Wings of Destiny - A FotS AAR (Chapter 12 - Updated Apr 24)
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  5. #65

    Default Re: [SS 6.4] To Change our Fate, a Sicilian AAR

    Quote Originally Posted by Gray Guardian View Post
    Now this is a good story. I decided to take a look at what you have written and I must say I am impressed. This is an incredible story, I wish I had these writing skills. You will be getting +rep for this. Although I am curious, what font do you use?
    Robinzx's right, I use Comic Sans MS. Thank you for those flattering comments, you flatter this humble writer. You have a great AAR too

    Quote Originally Posted by robinzx View Post
    Comic sans

    Loving the drama, but can't help wondering - is it possible to sail from Palermo to Africa and back within a day?
    Palermo?? I think you mean Tunis According to google maps (what secrets have I revealed?) travel time from Tunis to Mahdiya is 2hours and 55 minutes by car on the highway, so I compensated for Fallen's poor navigational skills and travel by the sea. Thanks for reading!

    As always, comments are welcome
    Last edited by Swaeft; December 14, 2012 at 08:41 AM.

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  6. #66

    Default Re: [SS 6.4] To Change our Fate, a Sicilian AAR

    At this point in time I am considering a few factors before making a decision to enter this month (and the previous month's) MAARC. I'll PM a few of the experienced people in order to get views on it. I think this is it for the month, I can't access my CPU as I'm away on a trip to...somewhere Sixteen hour flights (twenty seven if counting time spent at the airport) isn't healthy for a sixteen year old translator.

    Merry X'mas in advance, dear friends!

    Swaeft's Scribblings (Library)| Swaeft's Snaps (Gallery)| My Blog (The Lensation)

  7. #67
    Tigellinus's Avatar Citizen
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    Default Re: [SS 6.4] To Change our Fate, a Sicilian AAR

    Just read the last chapter! Swaeft I said this before and I'll say it again! FANTASTIC! Poor Swaeft though You bougt out the emotions really well. I was actually feeling sorry for Fallen

    Sad that you may not enter the MAARC but hey these things happen

    +rep




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  8. #68

    Default Re: [SS 6.4] To Change our Fate, a Sicilian AAR

    I enjoyed the writing behind your AAR, Swaeft, and I appreciate the comments on my own AAR.

    It's nice seeing a community that is very supportive of one another. I mean that.

  9. #69
    Tigellinus's Avatar Citizen
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    Default Re: [SS 6.4] To Change our Fate, a Sicilian AAR

    It's nice seeing a community that is very supportive of one another. I mean that.
    Try the CW! It's got some great people there that could use your support! Rex's Tale of Rome, Heiro's Tale of Notuba (I cant spell it ) and many other fantastic stories!

    Everyone here supports each other! But support can be criticsm! As long as it helps them




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  10. #70

    Default Re: [SS 6.4] To Change our Fate, a Sicilian AAR

    Quote Originally Posted by Tigellinus View Post
    Just read the last chapter! Swaeft I said this before and I'll say it again! FANTASTIC! Poor Swaeft though You bougt out the emotions really well. I was actually feeling sorry for Fallen
    Thank's for the rep, I'll be sure to do the same when I can. But I got one little question for you.

    Quote Originally Posted by Tigellinus View Post
    Sad that you may not enter the MAARC but hey these things happen
    What is the meaning of this heresy???

    Quote Originally Posted by Kerdic View Post
    I enjoyed the writing behind your AAR, Swaeft, and I appreciate the comments on my own AAR.

    It's nice seeing a community that is very supportive of one another. I mean that.
    I'm glad to do whatever I can, and support is gladly welcome

    I just need to edit a suitable picture for the MAARC. So here is my official announcement.

    To Change Our Fate: A Sicilian AAR has entered the MAARC! All the best to those who have entered, best of luck fellow AARtists!

    Swaeft's Scribblings (Library)| Swaeft's Snaps (Gallery)| My Blog (The Lensation)

  11. #71
    Radzeer's Avatar Rogue Bodemloze
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    Default Re: [SS 6.4] To Change our Fate, a Sicilian AAR

    The story is shaping up nicely. Good job with the last updates.
    Now this Swaeft character...

  12. #72

    Default Re: [SS 6.4] To Change our Fate, a Sicilian AAR

    Thank you all for your kind support and all those who encouraged me to join the MAARC! Best of luck to all!

    Thanks Radzeer

    Swaeft's Scribblings (Library)| Swaeft's Snaps (Gallery)| My Blog (The Lensation)

  13. #73

    Default Re: [SS 6.4] To Change our Fate, a Sicilian AAR

    Quote Originally Posted by Radzeer View Post
    Now this Swaeft character...
    OI! That's the name of the noble horse who saved Fallen's life. It ain't a 'character'. I demand some form of respect!!

    Or else...


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  14. #74
    Tigellinus's Avatar Citizen
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    Default Re: [SS 6.4] To Change our Fate, a Sicilian AAR

    Oh heresy if my memory serves me correctly.Means to do an act or acts against god. A heretic is a man that goes around preaching that god is not real. I think, and I'm talking about those times as Catholic was the dominate religion in those times. To go against god was an act of heresy and would be punishable with death. Burnt at the stake if my memory serves me right.

    But I'll have a look on dictionary and try give you a definite answer soon enough




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  15. #75
    Paragon's Avatar Senator
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    Default Re: [SS 6.4] To Change our Fate, a Sicilian AAR

    Much drama over a horse compared with the two dozens of knight buddies he must have lost there, but I liked it, it's nice to have battles again (even though it seems Fallen is unwilling to repeat this)
    This is my Aragonese AAR, One Single Man

    If you read and comment, there WILL be cake!

  16. #76
    Tigellinus's Avatar Citizen
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    Default Re: [SS 6.4] To Change our Fate, a Sicilian AAR

    Much drama over a horse compared with the two dozens of knight buddies he must have lost there, but I liked it,
    Haha I found this quite amusing. You have a point Paragon. Though the horse saved him and the knights didn't : so I guess I can understand the grief over the horse.




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  17. #77

    Default Re: [SS 6.4] To Change our Fate, a Sicilian AAR

    Quote Originally Posted by Paragon View Post
    Much drama over a horse compared with the two dozens of knight buddies he must have lost there, but I liked it, it's nice to have battles again (even though it seems Fallen is unwilling to repeat this)
    Sir Fallen didn't know anyone there, and he was absolutely exhausted. I tried to portray the fact that he couldn't care less about his unknown compatriots in the torrid situation, but yea. Whether he likes it or not, Sir Fallen will have more battles to fight (Tripoli) and it will have an effect on his personality. Thanks for the feedback, I will try to improve

    Quote Originally Posted by Swaeft View Post
    I didn't recognise anyone among the Knights. I didn't wear my iron armor, instead donning the lighter clothes of a squire, much like the ones I wore when I was a Mounted Sergeant. They didn't attempt to make conversation with me, and neither did I. The grim feeling of death and battle were present, and we silently listened to our company commander.

    Last edited by Swaeft; December 15, 2012 at 04:10 AM.

    Swaeft's Scribblings (Library)| Swaeft's Snaps (Gallery)| My Blog (The Lensation)

  18. #78

    Default Re: [SS 6.4] To Change our Fate, a Sicilian AAR

    Quote Originally Posted by Tigellinus View Post
    Haha I found this quite amusing. You have a point Paragon. Though the horse saved him and the knights didn't : so I guess I can understand the grief over the horse.
    I'm sorry Princess Maximilla, but I think I lost something you gave me

    Also because his guilt is amplified over him causing another death due to his incompetence in battle.
    Last edited by Swaeft; December 15, 2012 at 04:15 AM.

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  19. #79
    Paragon's Avatar Senator
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    Default Re: [SS 6.4] To Change our Fate, a Sicilian AAR

    Well, I rememberd more details about them (the age of the youngest and the oldest for example) so I though they got on better but I guess that makes it better. He does grieve about how half a thousand died later on.

    Still I don't think Maximillia will leave him over some horse... right? :
    This is my Aragonese AAR, One Single Man

    If you read and comment, there WILL be cake!

  20. #80
    Tigellinus's Avatar Citizen
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    Default Re: [SS 6.4] To Change our Fate, a Sicilian AAR

    Hey it's a horse. She'll buy him a new one and all will be well again.

    But Fallen won't feel right for some time. Then he will get used to having a new horse and that horse will go on to be is mount for the hole storyline.

    There I just gave you the details of the horses significance in the story.

    Awaiting your next update my friend!




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