Summer Isles Expedition: Landing at Walano

[Poach]

The Landing of Prince Julukati Zhan and his forces at Walano, 207AL.

The ships had made the voyage from King's Landing to Walano, chief island of the Summer Isles and location of the Capital City of Lotus Port, as well as the strategically important towns of Last Lament and Tall Trees Town. The vast armada of Swan Ships and mercenary Westerosi Ships made good time, aided by a strong southerly wind and relatively calm seas, appearing off the northern shore a day's march from Last Lament.

Agents of Prince Julukati had borne ill news before he'd left King's Landing: his treacherous brother Jalabhar had defeated Julukati's general, Zalaman, in a major battle outside Lotus Port, scattering his troops. Zalaman had attempted to retreat to Last Lament, a stronghold of Julukati's supporters, and so that is where he'd elected to sail. Fishermen encountered as they neared the coast relayed yet more bad news: Last Lament had fallen to Jalabhar and Zalaman had withdrawn with the few troops he had left along the northern coast to the west, prompting another course change.

Eventually they were sighted: banners of Julukati, clinging to a rocky outcrop along the shore, behind haphazard stone and wooden pallisades and ditches. The arrival of the fleet had prompted Jalabhar to order a massed assault of the position before relief could arrive: Jalabhar's army of 15,000 troops split 5,000 assaulting the fortified outcrop while 10,000 arrayed along the beach to meet the invaders.

Men took to rowing boats, brought by the fleet, in their thousands. The artillery of the fleet, numbering some two hundred ships, unleashed upon Jalabhar's army, massive bolts and rocks hurtling from the huge crossbows and catapults carried by the warships, bringing disarray to the beach's defenders as a swarm of rowing boats surged towards the shoreline like heavily armoured turtles, the troops not rowing using their shields to create a shell over the boats to ward off arrow fire.

The first boats ground ashore on the fine sand, the shells exploding apart as the troops dived off their transports and formed up on the beach as the first arrows began falling in response. Westerosi archers and crossbowmen answered the challenge, joining the brutal naval bombardment, which was causing Jalabhar's ranks to break apart and retreat from the shoreline in growing chaos. One thousand men ashore, two, four, nine. The bought army of Julukati was landing almost unopposed, but with their own number directly to their front, if temporarily out of sight behind the rise that marked the end of the beach and the start of the grasslands, and the remnants of Julukati's loyalists facing imminent destruction.

* * *

Players must direct their companies as they see fit. The situation is thus:

Jalabhar has around 9-10,000 troops directly to your front. They are temporarily disorganised, but out of sight. Their order of battle is unknown. Players must engage the Left, Center or Right or be a Reserve. This will be a standard field battle with two of the three flanks needed for victory.

Additionally, Julukati's own army of 3,000 men is being assaulted by 5,000. It is not likely that they will still be standing by the battle's end without immediate aid.

Roleplay will be factored into this to determine effectiveness. Your own forces are at least as equally disorganised as Jalabhar's, being massed on a beach thrust directly into a major pitched battle after weeks at sea. I will gauge how effective the Westerosi D-Day is by the RP responses. Bear in mind that simply posting you've landed without any difficulty will result in penalties: realistic RP dealing with the event is sought, not a tale of how your troops are born veteran marines.

Mods: This will be moved to Feast for Crows at 2000 GMT, 2h30m from now. Jalabhar's OOB will be posted in the relevant mod thread.

[Adamat]

Prince Eon retched over the side of the vessel bringing him to shore. The shields protecting his head were under constant arrow-fire, making the sound seem like it was raining. A deadly rain of steel. The rower shouted something. They were close to shore. The horses had been left behind on the great swan ships, they were no use during a naval landing. Eon gripped his sword more tightly, and felt a hand on his shoulder. It was Ser Vardis Egen, Captain of the Eyrie Guard. The sound of men shouting and crying out in pain was overwhelming, so they had to do with expressions and body language. The boat came to a stand-still as its bow dug itself into the sand, and immediately the first of the heavily armored Arryn men stormed off the ships. The banner bearers were unlucky enough to carry no shield, and when they raised the blue-and-white of Arryn they were swiftly targeted by the enemy bowmen, who were shooting arrows with deadly accuracy. Eon saw the banner-bearer from his landing vessel, a hardened soldier called Harwin, fall to the ground, and arrow lodged between his gorget and his helmet. He tried to pull it out, letting the long banner fall to the ground. Immediately, Eon rushed forward. Not to try to protect the man-at-arms, not at all. "On me!" He shouted, as he picked up the banner and held it high, Ser Vardis rushing up to protect him from the fate that had befallen Harwin. "Crush their center! Shieldwall, shieldwall!"

[removeduser_456328]

Set Cletus braced behind his shield, ready for the impact. Looking behind him he saw several of his men doing the same; their captain's directing him to do so. Turning round the boat smashed into the sand, several of his men being thrown to the side and one or two overboard. His head smashed into his shield, looking up bloody and dazed he saw his men being to disembark, under heavy enemy fire. "Men" he shouted "Form up on that feathered prince! Shieldwall on him!" He jumped off the ship, landing with a crunch onto the sand and breaking into a lopsided jog, leading his men to Julukati.

[Zethira]

Jehaine watched the beach landing from the ships with growing tension, and her eyes tracked the small rowing vessels carrying Sargon's archers and Gareth's axemen into the fray. The thought had been to mix the two, and use the axemen's shields to give her archers at least a bare minimum of protection while approaching their -- at least temporary -- destination. In addition, this would create small pockets of axemen shielding archers from direct attack while the Westerosi lines reformed into proper battle lines, or at least that had been the intention. She winced as a volley of arrows landed among them, watching several fall over the side clutching arrows that had struck chests, or shoulders. Others kept inside, their fall broken by the edge of the boat but no less out of the battle. This was however a necessary trial. The men needed to be bloodied, and so did she as their Commander.

Her Lancers and Melara's Outriders were among the last to be rowed out, contrary to the infantry units, given that they had horses to transport. Bigger targets, certainly, but with their archers occupied by the incoming arrows and attacks from their own landed troops they would stand more of a chance to make it to the beach alive and unharmed. The signal was given, and she quickly embarked, clutching her own shield tightly while scanning the skies for arrows that might land too close to her, or frighten her horse. It had been battle-trained like all war horses had, but training alone would not stop an arrow. Her shield would.

By the time she reached the beach, there were two small dents in the steel of her shield, the green paint chipped off in those areas as markings of where an arrow had been deflected away. She raised her banner as other regiments raised theirs, an attempt to rally those of the same armies together beside men they knew, and would be more willing to die for. In that, it had been an advantage that she had kept her own troops spread out among the ships, reducing the time she would have to wait on other boats to trickle in the remainder of her troops one boat at a time. Some infantrymen were engaging already, she could see the falcon of the Ayrie among them from where she was. Her own infantry and archers were more difficult to spot, but that was why she had left them in the care of her lieutenants, each commanding a regiment in the field. Gareth would see to it that Sargon's archers would not be engaged, Melara would send her Outriders to gain intelligence on the enemy's troop composition and battle formations and act as messengers to support the armies, and her Lancers would remain in reserve to reinforce the infantry where necessary with a couple of well-timed charges, being of better use in the role of harasser than fighting at the front among the limited room to maneuver the infantry would leave her with.

Center: 300 Hightower Axemen, 300 Mercenary Archers
Reserve: 300 Outriders, 200 Reachman Lancers

[jacb547]

Lord Andrew Estermont had been used to combat at sea, ship against ship mind you for this was the first time that he had participated in a massive landfall, he sat on his boat fully armoured besides him was his horse, the animal covering around half of the small boat leaving the rowers with barely enough space to do their jobs. Looking sideways he saw men reaching shore and trying to enter formation only to be scattered by enemy arrows, a boat to his side bearing his own green turtle was targeted by a bowman who set it on fire making the men on it jump to the water. One of the rowers shouted something in Summer Islander and he saw the beach drawing near seconds before an arrow pierced his neck and ended outside his open mouth, one of his retainers grabbed the row and the boat reached shore safely, the three man at arms that had come along in his boat seeing that his horse took up alot of space disembarked first splashing water everywhere. Lord Andrew mounted his horse eager for war as most men of his age were and went off the rowboat, the horse almost broke his leg in the sand but Andrew managed to steady him, looking aside he saw among the chaos some of his men who had made it safely, with a nod one of his retainers raised his banner and shouted "Regroup men of Estermont! Regroup!"

A few hundred men from around them came looking seasick and bloodthirsty, Lord Estermont reared his horse and addressed them "Men of Cape Wrath! Today we fight in foreign soil away from home! Against strange men who speak strange tongues! I ask you are we afraid because of that? Nay! No Westerosi has ever warred in this shores before! You know what that means? All the more glory for us!" He was met with yells and war cries from the stormlanders and started addressing his captains among them. "Allen, take your crossbowmen and return fire to those bastards! Ser Barristan, gather your axeman and storm up that hill!" Both men nodded and went off shouting encouragements and orders. "Collen go around the beach and try to find any wayward soldiers then array them next to Barristan!" As previously the gruff veteran turned and ran off. "Ser Ronnet, gather the knights and follow me! Estermont!" The soldiers from Cape Wrath arrayed themselves on the right, the companies of axeman first, the crossbowmen after and the knights at the sides. The mass of men started moving up the beach were the enemies likely were, with orders for the axeman to attack first while the crossbows hail the enemy with bolts and the knights to try flanking once the battle is joined.

[Pontifex Maximus]

Solareon cringed as yet another one of his men wretched right beside him. "Warrior help us." He muttered as he attempted to stand clear. The shore was just now coming into view, and it was a war zone already. Something like an empty pit formed in Lannister's stomach, a void filled with every apprehension, misgiving, and fear he had of the impending battle. He attempted to look courageous nonetheless, and couldn't tell if he was achieving his desired end. Probably not. He donned his helmet with silver, feathered cheekguards surrounding his smooth jawline. He clutched his hammer, two feet in length with a vicious spike protruding from the opposite end of the blunt side. He stared at the choppy water and decided on a bold course. Now is the time to make a name for myself.

Already some Valesmen and sellswords of the Reach advanced onto the coast, engaging the enemy and, more importantly, locking them into place. Furthermore he noticed gaps in their lines, the initial bombardment had left the enemy disorganized and out of sorts. The confusion way be exploited for the time being. He looked over his troop of heavy horse. He may as of yet be of some use to them. He cajoled the rowers. "Full oar, give it all you've got! We must hit the beach hard and not get bogged down in the shallows!" His heart raced. "Prepare to disembark! Console the horses! When we land, mount quickly and follow my lead!" He meant to charge from the gangplanks of the ship's inner hold, down the cargo ramp and then directly onto the battlefield. There would be moments of precious little cover, exposing them to missiles of every sort, but it was a risk that might pay off dividends in the end. Squires moved back and forth in the cramped space, attempting to ensure lances were appropriately distributed. They had to be held at an awkward angle as the ship's upper deck was too close to the ground to accommodate such long weapons.

Solareon turned to the knights on either side of him and called out as loudly as he could. It was dim, damp, and noisy belowdecks. The smell was indescribable, vomit mingled with horse . "When he hit land, brace yourselves for the impact! When the ramps drop, form a wedge! We will charge the enemy and force a hole in their line. With any luck, it will exploit an entire flank!" He was unsure of his own plan. It had many weak points. Time seemed to drag on endlessly before he heard voices raised above. A soft sound of grinding was heard below them, the ship was coming in fast to the beach. All at once the ship seemed to hit a wall, men tumbled forward, attempting to calm their horses. Several moments of calm allowed the riders to mount, and once the doors dropped, away they went.

A sudden blinding light opened before them, and the bedraggled Westerland knights gave a rousing cheer. Solareon spurred his horse into the midst of a raging battle on the beaches. Arrows began to fall, and then more thickly. Their moment of slow, painful exposure as they exited. Some horses reared and threw riders into the surf, others cleared the decks and formed up on the beach. An immediate charge, of course, was tactically impossible. Solareon only just discovered this. Instead, he took some time forming up his men, minutes in fact, before he raised his lance high and urged the line forward into a charging wedge. He didn't know if he had landed in time to exploit the enemy's weaknesses, but any more delay and the opportunity would certainly be spoiled.

Solareon Lannister leveled his lance and increased his speed, his knights falling in behind him in a wedge. Through the fog of war he aimed for the thinnest, weakest section of the line he could hope to exploit. The dancing Lion of Lannister flew some distance behind him. It was not a handsome charge, but if it turned the tide of the battle in their favor he would have accomplished his goals.

ooc: Pinkerton, we can RP Marbrand as with the Westerland knights if you want?

[Pinkerton]

Solareon cringed as yet another one of his men wretched right beside him. "Warrior help us." He muttered as he attempted to stand clear. The shore was just now coming into view, and it was a war zone already. Something like an empty pit formed in Lannister's stomach, a void filled with every apprehension, misgiving, and fear he had of the impending battle. He attempted to look courageous nonetheless, and couldn't tell if he was achieving his desired end. Probably not. He donned his helmet with silver, feathered cheekguards surrounding his smooth jawline. He clutched his hammer, two feet in length with a vicious spike protruding from the opposite end of the blunt side. He stared at the choppy water and decided on a bold course. Now is the time to make a name for myself.

Already some Valesmen and sellswords of the Reach advanced onto the coast, engaging the enemy and, more importantly, locking them into place. Furthermore he noticed gaps in their lines, the initial bombardment had left the enemy disorganized and out of sorts. The confusion way be exploited for the time being. He looked over his troop of heavy horse. He may as of yet be of some use to them. He cajoled the rowers. "Full oar, give it all you've got! We must hit the beach hard and not get bogged down in the shallows!" His heart raced. "Prepare to disembark! Console the horses! When we land, mount quickly and follow my lead!" He meant to charge from the gangplanks of the ship's inner hold, down the cargo ramp and then directly onto the battlefield. There would be moments of precious little cover, exposing them to missiles of every sort, but it was a risk that might pay off dividends in the end. Squires moved back and forth in the cramped space, attempting to ensure lances were appropriately distributed. They had to be held at an awkward angle as the ship's upper deck was too close to the ground to accommodate such long weapons.

Solareon turned to the knights on either side of him and called out as loudly as he could. It was dim, damp, and noisy belowdecks. The smell was indescribable, vomit mingled with horse . "When he hit land, brace yourselves for the impact! When the ramps drop, form a wedge! We will charge the enemy and force a hole in their line. With any luck, it will exploit an entire flank!" He was unsure of his own plan. It had many weak points. Time seemed to drag on endlessly before he heard voices raised above. A soft sound of grinding was heard below them, the ship was coming in fast to the beach. All at once the ship seemed to hit a wall, men tumbled forward, attempting to calm their horses. Several moments of calm allowed the riders to mount, and once the doors dropped, away they went.

A sudden blinding light opened before them, and the bedraggled Westerland knights gave a rousing cheer. Solareon spurred his horse into the midst of a raging battle on the beaches. Arrows began to fall, and then more thickly. Their moment of slow, painful exposure as they exited. Some horses reared and threw riders into the surf, others cleared the decks and formed up on the beach. An immediate charge, of course, was tactically impossible. Solareon only just discovered this. Instead, he took some time forming up his men, minutes in fact, before he raised his lance high and urged the line forward into a charging wedge. He didn't know if he had landed in time to exploit the enemy's weaknesses, but any more delay and the opportunity would certainly be spoiled.

Solareon Lannister leveled his lance and increased his speed, his knights falling in behind him in a wedge. Through the fog of war he aimed for the thinnest, weakest section of the line he could hope to exploit. The dancing Lion of Lannister flew some distance behind him. It was not a handsome charge, but if it turned the tide of the battle in their favor he would have accomplished his goals.

ooc: Pinkerton, we can RP Marbrand as with the Westerland knights if you want?

OoC: Please!

, , .
Years of training had not prepared him for this. He was scared -less; chaos reigned in the shore

The charge didn't make sense. They should have tried to join a bigger host. Three-hundred men doomed to die

This was not a song, this was a battle. And men died in battles

, I'm going to die

[Ori]

Aiseru Kokoro had but fleeting moments to survey the battlefield while dodging arrows and praying for his beaching ship not to be destroyed by some terrible weapon of war. A brief look of men jumping to the beaches, forming up, getting hailed on by arrow-fire... Indeed, perhaps a terrible sight. And yet the smell of blood invigorated him somehow and fueled the fire of his own blood lust. A cautious man, Aiseru had ensured a delay of a few precious moments before launching the Itsuma-Toku's boarding ships. His men would not be at the brunt of the attack, at least not yet. He needed ever man alive on those beaches so he could win the glory a Kokoro deserved. His men hit the beaches with a thump, almost unanimously. "Infantry in front, Archer's behind!" He screamed over the wails and moans of dying men. He glanced over the battlefield to the allied army, besieged on the cliffs. Weaklings, they've sealed their own death by being such pathetic warriors. If they were brave they'd have charged to their deaths long ago, and if they were competent they'd never be forced to die. What good is a weakling to an army? He thought to himself, perhaps the scent of blood makes a man harsher. Yet this was but a passing curse on them. Glory is the name of the game. Let the petty knights and lords charge to the front to meet a proper army. I will rescue the King's brother and a whole front's glory will be mine! "To the cliffs, sons of Yi Ti - we will bathe in the blood of the Summer Isles today!" The Summer Islanders believed they had accounted for every factor and would send a third of their men to take down one army while the rest took down the other. But no one can account Itsuma-Toku... They will pay dearly for that mistake.

OOC: 300 Mercenary Archers and 600 Mercenary Light Infantry + Aiseru Kokoro move to relieve the 3,000 allies on the cliffs.

[Axis Sunsoar]

Duncan Tarly, already fully armored and mounted hurried off the boat. All of his men had been toward the back of the fleet, and joined him. Arrows flew everywhere, and the screams of dying men carried on the wind. He was in his element. Both the golden flower of the Tyrells and the red huntsman of the Tarlys were unfurled. Duncan spurred his horse forward. Over the press of battle Arryn falcons were still visible.

"Onward, men of the Reach! Forward, warriors of House Tarly! We ride to the side of Prince Eon!"

Spurring his horse forward, the moved quickly to join the Arryns in the center. He lifted his shield to catch the arrows that hissed through the air, and his men did likewise. The infantrymen formed a box around the archers with the intent of protecting them from their Summer Island counterparts. As his troops reached the battle, he gave his orders, before raising his sword before him and calling the charge. The falcons would not fall if he had anything to say about it.

OOC: 600 heavy infantry, 1,200 archers to the center.
1,200 light infantry hold in reserve to exploit any openings.

[Ori]

Aiseru Kokoro had not yet left the beach when he saw the banners of Yronwood move up next to his, followed by the clanking noise of armor and swords. Proper knights, he thought to himself, momentarily stunned by the realization. There were no knights in Yi Ti. As a kid they would play "Knights, Lords, and Kings" and pretend to be knights through the streets, but this... This was something else. Perhaps it was the shinning armor, or the stomping of their boots, but sometime made Aiseru just stand there captivated. Not for too long, just a moment. But in that moment was memories from when he was a kid and wanted to grow up to be a knight, when a traveling playwright came to his hometown to put on a show about Knights and he begged his father to let him see it. He remembered such memories, long forgotten in the depths of his skull. But only for a moment. The tides of war do not wait for men to be ready before thrusting themselves upon the world. An arrow shot passed his face, then another before he realized he had lowered his shield. In one moment he remembered and in the next he had forgotten again. War... Time to win a war. His men would march along side the Dornish warriors, and save the Summer Islanders - such was fate.

[Hengest]

The alien Julukati strode forth proudly, one of the first hordes to form up. The aboriginal warriors, dark-skinned, brightly accoutred and fearsome in their repose lit up the edge of the white sand beach with the red mist of danger. Humphrey watched the missiles shower, and the Westerosi land and fall, he watched for patterns, tried to make swift judgement; surmise a foreign military, a unknown manner of men and their way of warfare. As the barges rose and bellyflopped into the surge of the shallows. He had his sergeants pound the deck with their spear butts and rattle their swords upon their shields. "To arms!" Called out the knight of sable and argent with his greatsword held aloft. "Hold formation and march!" He growled as the boat finally bumped and slid into the sand with a hiss, the front dipped and the men disembarked calmly.

He smiled, they were professionals these Valesmen. The old Northern guard gathered around him with shields raised, a sergeant looked to him with a grimace as his armour was pummelled by ineffectual arrows, their weight and force still substantial. Behind the shield, his face turned to his commander he leant forward over the neck of his nervous steed: "Which way, Ser Humphrey?"

"Wait for the line to form." He answered calmly whilst the bodyguard gathered into block. His shield like an umbrella against a storm he scanned the battlefront, the other armies cheered and wailed and shrieked, his own men continued to drum and march in file despite their rank and file been picked apart by missiles. The pikemen forced lines along the cavalry and the bowmen waded ashore with their weapons raised over their heads to keep them from the sea-spray.

"There!" He pointed with his blade, Julukati was clearly one of the major targets for Jalabhar, if this expedition was to succeed that man would have to be guarded. "Get there and take the vanguard!" The twenty-one hundred Falcon Guard led the way with Humphrey's own Northerners outriding towards the fortification where Zalaman was waylaid. Humphrey leant over his horse and shouted through the noise, "Julukati! We shadow you! Move on as you will!" Just then Humphrey saw the Yronwood banners parallel to his own Wickendens'. "Ser Cletus! It is an honour, Ser." He raised his sword's crossbar to his face in salute.

3 joust (Best knight in all the Vale)
3 duel (Best knight in all the Vale)
+1 duel (Tourney of the Hand)
3 field (former Sergeant-at-Arms of the Bloody Gate)
3 siege (former Sergeant-at-Arms of the Bloody Gate)
2 survival
Equipment: Level 3 Greatsword (Sirsha's) +7
Full armour: +7 hp

300 Household Knights +2 to charge, survival
2100 Falcon Guard
600 archers

[Poach]

Thanks for that Zeth, I had intended to do that myself. I'll give the rest until tonight to post orders after which I'll assign them as I see fit and roll the battle.

[removeduser_456328]

Cletus nodded to the foreign soldier and to See Humphrey "Men, half of you go with Ser Gerris and aid in the centre!"
Ooc: 1500 of men relieving siege are now deployed in centre, no commander with traits.

[Wheatley]

Tyrell assigned his men to the left flank, acting cautious and insecure. He has never fought a battle. Still he stood in the salty water in full armor and great sword in hands. His men pushed onwards, letting the archers take the beach with arrows in hand as the infantry kicked and grunted their way forward. The Tyrell banner was large and clumsy, and was held by a few tired men who let it get stained with sand and saltwater. Peter Tyrell mounted his horse as it was brought up. The rest of the small barons and elite knights that surrounded him were also ready now. The the most fearsome warriors in the world. Unmatched in skill, equipment and fervour. A Westerosi knight died in battle with a least ten wives or mothers cursing his name.

[Poach]

​Bayard watched stoically from his rowboat as they neared the shore, peering out through the small gaps in the shields warding off the arrows as they bounced and thudded into the shell. A few men screamed, grunted or cried out as arrows found the small gaps, but the boat suffered relatively few casualties as it neared the shore.

As the boat ground to a halt on the sand, Bayard found he and his company towards the left of the allied line. Nothing to his left, waves of advancing troops on his right, spearheaded by a bold Lannister charge, Bayard started rallying his men, barking them into a shield-wall as best he could alongside men of the Reach, themselves being spearheaded by a heavy cavalry contingent. In the chaos, the shield wall was haphazard and mixed: the man on Bayard's left was a Tyrell man, on his right one of his own light foot, and behind him a pair of his heavy foot. Still, a rough line formed, and the advance began, arrows flying both ways, gaps in the wall being filled as they appeared.

Soon, the enemy line was visible before them, dark-skinned and bright feathered, a swirling melee already ongoing with the Tyrell cavalry charge. With a mighty roar, the shield wall broke ranks and the opposing forces slammed together.


Battle

Westerosi Left:
1,500 Light Infantry (1500p)
2,300 Heavy Infantry (4600p)
1900 Archers (1900p)
300 Household Knights (1050p)

Jalabhar Right:
1,300 Light Infantry (1300p)
500 Heavy Infantry (1000p)
250 Archers (375p)
450 Heavy Cavalry (1350p)

Westerosi Archers shoot: 17 and 7. 20% dead. 1040 linf, 400 hinf, 360 cav.

Jalabhar Archers shoot: 7 and 19. 2625 and 135850. 2% dead. 1274 linf, 2254 hinf, 294 cav.

Inf clash: 15 and 19. 99,960 and 55480. 20% dead each. Jala: 832 linf, 320 hinf, 288 cav. Westerosi: 1019 linf, 1803 hinf, 288 cav.

Westerosi win.

* * * *

Westerosi Center:
300 Hightower Axemen (900p)
600 Heavy Infantry (1200p)
1,500 Dismounted Knights (4500p)
1,500 Mercenary Archers (1500p)
300 Westerlander Knights (1050p)

Jalabhar Centre:
2,000 Light Infantry (4000p)
1,500 Heavy Infantry (1500p)
500 Archers (750p)

Westerosi Archers shoot: 20 and 11. 20% dead. 1600 hinf, 1200 linf.

Jalabhar Archers shoot: 3 and 10. 2250 and 76,500. 3%. 291 axe, 582 hinf, 1455 d.knights, 291 w.knights

Infantry clash: 8 and 15. 59,364 and 66,000. 20% dead both sides. Jalabhar: 1280 hinf, 960 linf. Westerosi: 233 axe, 466 hinf, 1164 d.knights, 233 w.knights

* * * *

Westerosi Right:
900 Dismounted Knights (2700p)
900 Bronzegate Axemen (2700p)
900 Siege Crossbowmen (900p)
300 Marcher Crossbowmen (300p)
400 Stormlander Knights (1000p)
1,200 Vale Knights (4200p)

Jalabhar Left:
1,800 Light Infantry (1800p)
300 Heavy Infantry (600p)
400 Archers (600p)

Westerosi Archers shoot: 16 and 4. 20% dead. 1440 linf, 240 hinf.

Jalabhar Archers shoot: 6 and 20. 3600 and 212,000. 1.5%. Not really worth it, we'll say the Stormlander Knights crashed in before good volleys could go off. 394 s.knights.

Infantry: 10 and 4. 212,000 and 7680. 4% Westerosi. 864 d.knight, 864 axe, 378 s.knights, 1152 v.knights

Westerosi win.

* * * *

Siege:
900 Archers (900p)
600 Light Infantry (600p)
2,100 Falcon Guard (3150p)
1,500 Dismounted Knights (4500p)
300 Household Knights (1050p)

Jalabhar Forces meeting Westerosi:

1,000 Light Infantry (1000p)
1,000 Heavy Infantry (2000p)

Westerosi Archers shoot: 7 and 1. 20% dead. 800 linf, hinf.

Infantry: 12 and 14. 111,600 and 33,600. 20% dead both sides. 480 linf, 1680 falcon, 1200 d.knight, 240 h.knight Westerosi. 640 l inf, h inf Jalabhar.

d20*5% dead in assault, both sides. 1 and 3. 5% Jalabhar, 15% Zalaman. Jalabhar: 1900 linf, hinf, 950 archers. Zalaman: 850 linf, 850 hinf, 637 archer, 250 lcav.

Rout: 60% of Jalabhar's army cut down. Will total later, if said army becomes involved again.

* * *

Bayard slashed through an enemy archer shortly after the shieldwall broke, with him leading the infantry into the fray in support of his mounted allies. The enemy line was utterly unprepared for Westerosi infantry, as their warfare was light, preferring archers and loose order infantry over heavily armoured, shoulder to shoulder lines of soldiers. It didn't help that the Westerosi had weight of numbers on their side.

Before long the enemy right was in flight, losing far more men to swords, spears and arrows in the back than they did in the actual shoving match. Glancing to his own right after running his sword through a man's lower back, Bayard surveyed the scene from the higher ground he'd taken from the victory: Jalabhar's centre, anchored on solid rocky ground that broke up the Lannister charge a bit, had held firm, with the Westerosi assault breaking off in exhaustion. Further down, the enemy left had collapsed similarly to Bayard's own victory, and the forces attacking Zalaman's fort were also fleeing along the coast, cut off from their main line by a vicious assault roaring up from the beach into their flank.

Before any thought of envelopment could be conveyed, however, Jalabhar's centre began a retreat of it's own. Fresh cavalry charges from both flanks, and the Westerosi centre, harassed the retreat, while archers on Bayard's high ground, the high ground around Zalaman's fort, and from the beach itself, cut down yet more. Despite technically holding the centre, it too had become a minor rout as the troops mixed in with the fleeing flanks and lost cohesion under the hooves of Westerosi knights.

Catching his breath, Bayard could see the riverboat of Julukati, tugged to Westeros and back behind his own private Swan Ship, making its way to the shore at a leisurely pace. The bleeding was over, and Julukati now wanted to set foot in his homeland as a returning, victorious conqueror.

[Pontifex Maximus]

Solareon watched as arrows fell among his foes, causing them to spread out further away from eachother, perfect conditions for a charge of this magnitude. "Forward!" He cried at the top of his lungs. His lance was held forward, ready to hit its mark. Arrows continued to whiz by him, no doubt finding a mark on his men behind. Still, a reckless feeling of frenzy seemed to overcome him as their lines met. He had outpaced the heavier infantry by some degree and smashed into the Summer Islanders before the main host, cleaving the line with his wedge.

His lance skewered a lightly armored man weilding an axe and soon Solareon's hammer was swinging with fury among the ranks of the enemy. He looked left and saw some of his men pulled from horses, or thrown if the enemy thrust a spear in the horses' faces. Some casualties were to be expected, however. He tried to catch sight of Ser Marbrand in the fray.

[jacb547]

Lord Andrew Estermont stoppet the enemy at a distance, a mass of dark skinned men looking green, and purple and a myriad of colours because of their feathers, at the front of the enemy army some archers stepped forward, these man reknowed for their prowess would surely inflict heavy losses upon his men. Without a further thought Andrew signalled the charge, as the steel masses of men and horses joined together and attacked the archers in a charge of steel and flesh, he saw a half dozen of his men come down from the enemy scrambled volley before the Summer Islander archers retreated behind their infantry. Estermont continued with the charge and impaled an axeman before he had properly raised his shield, discarding the lance Andrew drew his sword and slashed left and right, cutting off a swordsman hand and opening a young spearmen's throat. He turned his horse and slashed at his side making three maceman flee and dodge. Raising his shield Andrew blocked a mace and killed its wielder before cutting a club in half scaring its owner half to death, his horse kicked a swordsman in the jaw and the man dropped in pain. With a fearfull warcry Andrew saw his men cutting throught the Summer Islander's line like a knife throught butter.

A horseman who was preparing to charge him lost his life at the hand of a burly axeman and this signalled to Andrew that the infantry had joined and his enemies were doomed. Splitting a feathered man skull's in half he charged once more into the fray. Sometime later when his arm was sore and his armour bloody Andrew had chased the last enemy from the field, riding back to the beach he gave orders to his captains to form a camp and treat the wounded. His eyes scanning the battlefield he saw countless lifeless bodies on the ground most of the dark skinned and feathered, they had won a great victory this day.

[Zethira]

Once the enemy army started routing, Jehaine -- who had placed herself in the reserve -- charged forward, intending to relieve the pressure on the Westerosi center, from what she could gather the only position where a decisive victory had not yet been achieved. Her objective was not to rush in for a quick (literal) stab at glory, but to take as many captives as possible. She did not know the ways of the Summer Isles, but if these men could be convinced to fight for the Julukati then they would buffer their own troops while denying the Jalabhar the chance to reform the fleeing troops. Horses were faster than men, and with their spirit and morale broken they could now be taken prisoner with relatively little effort, or at least fewer as when they still confidently held onto their weapons.

Small pockets of resistance had still formed here and there, groups of warriors that were trying to make a more organized retreat while the less experienced ones -- likely their equivalent of recruited levies -- simply ran for their lives and scattered in all directions. These pockets were quickly singled out if not caught up by the Westerosi cavalry that had been brought along in large numbers. The experienced fighters had a larger chance of reforming with other Jalabhar armies, and would be given priority when capturing, as they held the biggest chances of being a commander's bodyguard intending to fight their charges to safety, generals which could be identified by the amount of feathers they wore. Later, there would be a time to tend to the wounded, but right now, the closing moments of a won battle, it was imperative to deny the enemy the ability to regain as much of its fighting potential as possible.

There was small consolation to be had in the fact that most of their more valuable heavy infantry had been located in its center, the very location her infantry had been deployed into. They had seen the heaviest of the fighting that day, and the sight of the golden tree on green of the Order of Dawn would revitalize their morale, even as she and Melara's horses moved to surround the slower heavy infantry that had been in the enemy's center, fresh horses easily outpacing battle-weary and broken troops. She did hope others would join her with the same plans in mind, reading her intentions by her movements, but for now she would simply do her best. She owed it to her men, both the ones that lived as those that died for her today.

OOC: Capture rolls?

[Axis Sunsoar]

The Westerosi shieldwall in front of Duncan pushed the Jalabhar lines apart. In doing so, a small gap was created. Duncan lead his personal guard forward, rushing at the point of the wedge formation. Soon the Summer islanders were running before them, scampering left and right, unused to such a powerful cavalry charge. As the lightly armored cowards scattered left and right, other lords and their retinues came in hot pursuit. They would have the glory and honor of this conquest, if it meant killing every man who called himself a summer islander.

[Ori]

Aiseru Kokoro awoke from the trance of battle to the sounds of screaming enemies, running from the battlefield. He chased them with his men for a while, but they were light of foot and the few that survived had most definitely escaped his sword. He could've pursued them further to keep up appearances, but he'd rather send his men back to the battlefield to loot the corpses of the fallen. Sadly Aiseru could not be seen partaking in such a task, the other commanders might find it a bit brutish. Luckily though, this savage army was crushed quite entirely. If all the battles went this well they need not fear the success of this campaign, they'd be home in a month. Well, he could hope, couldn't he? Now then, he'd have to set up camp on the beach, somewhere in the rear he decided. No use putting himself in harm's way, after all. Do that, secure the perimeter with sentries, and do all the other things he'd read to do in Yi Ti. His men could rest well tonight. From what brief view he had of war, he supposed they'd need it.