Teresa of the Faint Smile, Adventures of a Stringy Bosmer Options

[D.Foxy]

Pappy was too lenient.

In my day, if any soldier under me had lied about his medical skill and was discovered only on the battlefield, he would have been shot - by the enemy, of course.

[haute ecole rider]

I'm not sure that Pappy was too lenient.

Now Calva has to not only worry about the Daedra army in front of him, but also the FG members in back of him (assuming he doesn't run from the battlefield first). To me, the anticipation is always worse than the reality.

This was great - a tremendous buildup of tension both on a large and a small scale.

I'm looking forward to more epicness!

A couple of nits, though:

Racing toward the main line of legionaries either on foot or being given rides by nearby horsemen

This looks like a sentence fragment to me.

Your paid extra to be our alchemist, you lying sack of guar dreck!

I think you meant the contraction of you are - you're instead.

This post has been edited by haute ecole rider: Jun 6 2010, 07:19 PM

[Olen]

Nice bit of characterisation there, it gives a better feel of Pappy and also offered a preview of the coming battle.

A short piece which I assume means the next one will be quite epic in scale and length... An exciting prospect...

Also all this development of these fighter's guild types makes me wonder about that tarot reading and the knight of swords...

[Broken-Scale]

Wow, I sure have missed alot. I love all of this new stuff you've been adding! The part with Jalbert in Vilverin was very nerve-wracking, and this part about the Battle of Bruma is just awesome! I love this new, improved version so much! Keep it up!

[Destri Melarg]

The first time I read Pappy’s name in the last chapter I remembered the scene in the previous version of the TF when he speaks of the losses sustained during this battle. It is nice to see the events dramatized so effectively here.

I have to say that I am with Foxy here. The anticipation and threat of punishment is all well and good for a simple gaffe or a screw-up. What Calva did is going to be paid for with the blood of how many men in the coming battle? And why did he do it? Greed . . . for a few lousy extra septims in his own purse! He hasn’t earned an honorable death at the hands of the enemy. Pappy should have spit him like a wild boar right then and there!

Nits:

There the heavy horsemen rode around the back of the army to once more take up a position with the knights on the extreme right of the army.

Here you have a slightly awkward repetition of the word ‘army’. Perhaps shortening it to read ‘the extreme right flank’ might help it flow a bit smoother.

[D.Foxy]

Right on, Destri.

Crimes committed out of fear may be pardonable. Crimes committed out of Greed may be pardonable. But crimes committed out of Greed that lead to the death of many lives...AND especially the lives of those whom you solemly swore, in witnessed oath, to honour as your brothers whom you would give your life for, and whom would give theirs for you...

No. No pardon. Not from THIS man.

I'd have made sure he 'died in battle'.

[SubRosa]

D.Foxy: I had considered Pappy killing Calva then and there, but decided against it for several reasons. The most important one being that even he is not reckless enough to kill one of his own people in front of the Bruma primate, the vice-magister of the Mages Guild (who we will see in this next segment), and a group of Blades. That is the kind of thing he would only do quietly, with no one to know except perhaps a few guild members he could trust to keep their mouths shut. Ironically this is the same sort of thing that Arentus told the group to expect from the dremora.

What I find interesting is that no one has mentioned Pappy's own failings as a leader concerning Calva and the healing potions. It was one of the things the last segment was meant to point out. He had ample time to verify that Calva really was an alchemist, but never did so. Likewise, he had plenty of time to check in on him to make sure he was making the potions he was supposed to. He just took it all for granted, and now his chapter will likely suffer for that.


haute ecole rider: More character-building with the FG this installment. You are sure to like Pappy's conversation with the leader of the Blades...

Thank you for the observations, fixed.


Olen: Thank you Olen. We will see more of the FG this time out, rather than the main battle (I cannot help it, it is the estrogen in me). Keep looking for the Knight of Swords. Although in the distant future one or more of the people in the FG might be considered that. But that is a long way off.


Broken-Scale: Thank you scale.



Destri Melarg: One of the main reasons I went with Pappy as the pov character for the down-on-the-ground scenes was because of the later chapters with him. He will be heavily influenced by the events of this battle. It is a very rude awakening, to say the least.

Nit noted and fixed, thank you for spotting that.


* * *

Chapter 10d - The Battle Of Bruma

Across the field he could see the dremora were still pouring from half-a-dozen Oblivion Gates stretching across the plain. Yet there was still no sign of the Great Gate they were waiting for. He could see nothing beyond the backs of the Daedra, except for a cloud of dust rising into the sky. He imagined that the Cyrodiilic army was still making its way out of Bruma however. It took a long time to get an army out of camp and into fighting line after all.

"Are your people going to be ready for this sir?"

Pappy turned to see Julian of Anvil - The Hero of Kvatch - he reminded himself, standing beside him. He had not even heard her approach, and once again he cursed himself, this time for not paying attention.

"The Bravil guild will do their job," Pappy found himself growling. Closing his eyes, he paused, then looked back at the Redguard again. Don't take it out on her, he thought, none of it was her fault. When he spoke again, he made sure it was in a quieter, more reassuring tone.

"We'll be fine, don't worry. A lot of these guys are ex-legion. Paol was with me in the Sixth and the Eighth, Hirtuleius in the Tenth, J'sharr the Fourth. Akatosh's balls, Corentin was a tribune before he resigned. He's old nobility from High Rock. They're aren't spit and polish, but they're good fighters all."

"If you say so sir," The Redguard glanced back in the direction that Pappy had come from. Clearly she had witnessed the altercation. He could not blame her for having doubts.

"Stop calling me that," Pappy found himself breathing. "Neither one of us is Imperial Legion anymore. I'm just a hired sword now, and you're a spy."

"Old habits die hard sir," the woman shrugged. Then she rapped her knuckles against the golden laurel gilding the front of his legion breastplate. "Besides, I still remember that. Every one of us from the Sixth does. None of us would be here if not for what you did at Whiterun."

"I wasn't alone." Pappy looked back out across the fields of wheat at the Daedric army. "There were a lot of good soldiers there with me, and a lot fewer when it was over."

"But you held the city, in spite of the rebels outside, and inside, the walls. Not many leaders could have done that in a nine month siege. You did." Julian's gaze followed his own. "We'd have lost the entire province if not for you."

Was that just ancient history? the guild commander found himself wondering, or did he still have it in him? Well, he had damn well better, he thought, or they were all in for it.

"We'll get you to that Oblivion Gate, if they ever open the blasted thing, and hold it until you come back out with that Great Sigil Stone." Pappy found himself saying. "Believe me, nothing is going to get back through after you. Your back is safe with us."

"That's good to hear sir," Julian replied. "Not that I was really worried."

Then why did you ask in the first place? Pappy thought to himself. Looking into the face of the Redguard, he saw the answer. Just like a woman to give a man a pep-talk by making him do it for himself. Tadrose was the same way, he thought, all women were. Damn sneaky.

"You just watch that Arentus," Pappy cautioned, turning to look back into the small groups of warriors within the copse of trees. "I don't care if he is the best conjurer in Cyrodiil, he's trouble. He was the primus magus of the Tenth in Vvardenfell for nearly twenty years before he traded in his armor for a cassock. He's used to being top bull, and isn't going to take orders easy."

"I could say the same to you," the Redguard woman observed. "Raminus Polus is the right hand of the arch mage isn't he? The second man in the entire Mages Guild? Plus a patrician to boot."

"Oh, don't worry about the vice magister," Pappy felt a smile break from his lips as his eyes settled upon the mage.

With the dark hair and eyes of all Imperials, Polus' face barely showed any of his four decades. He wore a plain blue mage's robe, and carried a staff in one hand. Pappy saw Vincent Galien sitting across from the magister, listening intently to whatever it was the magician was saying. Barely old enough to join the guild, barely old enough to even shave, Pappy laughed to himself, the young Breton wore a suit of steel plate as shiny and new as that of Valerius. With any luck, both of them would still be alive at the end of all this.

"Raminus and I go way back," the guild commander continued. "I was a brand new hastatus posterior in the Larks here in Cyrodiil, and he was fresh out of the Arcane University doing a study on goblins. We had our… disagreements, but we came to an understanding. He leaves the soldiering to me, and I leave the magic to him. Since then we've gotten along just fine."

With that the soft sound of Hirtuleius' singing came to Pappy's ears. With a soothing, mellow tone, the man's voice was a pure joy to hear. For not the first time, the guild commander wondered why the Imperial had ever gone into the army, and later become a mercenary, when he could have spent his days living comfortably off his vocal chords.

"Our apprentice Thurindil may now refuse,
To wipe his scoundrel master's shoes.
For now he's free to sing and play,
Over the hills and far away.

Over the hills and over the main,
To Morrowind, Skyrim, and Illiac Bay.
Emperor Martin commands and we obey,
Over the hills and far away."

Pappy felt a smile crest his features as he drifted back deeper into the trees, where most of his guild were clustered around Hirtuleius. Julian hovered beside him in silence, and they all listened quietly until the grey-haired Imperial had finished the song. Then, as always, the grousing began.

"So how were we so lucky to get this job?" J'sharr asked, stretching his arms above his head. The red-furred Khajiit wore the slender, banded armor of elven design, and an axe and shield of the same work sat to either side of his lithe frame. "Are we finally getting some credit?"

"No," Tadrose Helas replied, running a finger along the edge of her long blade and casting an appraising eye along its slightly reddened surface. Pappy saw the elvish word Anganar written at the base of the blade. Or as the dark elf had once told him it meant in the common tongue: Forge. "Donton and Oreyn hate Gaius."

"Aye," Paol's voice rose in agreement. "Vilena Donton has had it in for Gaius since back in the days when he was the Guild Champion. And Oreyn, well, that bugger put more than one knife in Gaius' back to take his place. He's got his nose stuffed so far up Donton's backside that if she ever farts it'll clear his mind."

Pappy laughed, as did several others. "Oreyn's just jealous of my charm," he said. "Not to mention my artistic talent."

"I didn't know you were an artist?" Corentin looked up from a book that lay open in his lap.

"Only when it comes to getting young women out of their clothes," Tadrose observed dryly, now sheathing her long blade. The guild commander could not fail to note the slightly sardonic tint to her voice. Not barbed enough to be obvious to all, but just enough to let him know exactly what she thought of his numerous liaisons. "How was your night with the Countess by the way?"

"You know a gentleman never talks about that sort of thing." Pappy rose and found his pack among those piled up next to one of the trees. Unfastening the buckle that held its flap shut, he began digging through its contents.

"Yes, but what is stopping you?" J'sharr's voice came from behind him, along with a chorus of laughter.

Pappy could not restrain a chuckle himself. His steel-clad fingers set upon smooth glass, and he smiled again. Drawing forth a long, slender bottle, he pulled out its cork with his teeth and let the smoky amber liquid within slide down his throat. It felt warm on his tongue, and lit a welcome fire as it settled into his belly. Hot enough to calm the butterflies that always sprang up on the eve of a battle.

"Try this," he grinned, handing the bottle to Corentin, who happened to be nearest to where he now stood. "I got it from the castle wine cellar."

"This is four hundred year old flin!" the nobleman exclaimed, then took a long swig from the bottle. A look of contentment settled upon the Breton's face. "How did you get your hands on this?"

"Getting my hands on things I'm not supposed to is a finely-tuned talent of mine." Pappy admitted.

"Laugh all you want now," Pappy heard Njall say darkly from beyond the circle of fighters. Looking up, the guild commander saw the Nord walking past. His brilliant red hair was swept back from his face and hardened with lime. Wearing no armor, his nearly naked frame was decorated in tattoos of horses, dragons, and intricate knotwork symbols, all of which nearly glowed with a feeling of power in the dim light beneath the trees. He carried a battle-axe bearing a single long, downward sweeping blade of mithril at the top of its elongated oak haft. "You'll all rue your debauchery and intemperance when the day comes that you face the gods!"

"I don't know about you, but I'm looking forward to facing Dibella when my turn comes!" J'sharr's fangs showed as he laughed. Then he took the bottle from Corentin and raised it in a toast to the dour fundamentalist. "Until then, down the hatch."

"Hey Pappy, the vice magister taught me how to cast a healing spell!" Vincent Galien proclaimed as he walked up with Raminus Polus in tow. Snatching up the bottle before Paol could take it from J'sharr, the youthful Breton took a long swallow of the flin. His face instantly turned red, and he nearly spat it out moment later. That brought a chorus of laughter from the assembled warriors, and a hearty slap on the back from Paol.

"Now there's a school teacher alright," Hirtuleius observed when things quieted down. "About to jump in the biggest battle in history we are, and he's giving lessons."

"I'd like to teach him a few lessons," Aissa said with a fiery look at the magician. For not the first time, Pappy wished he was not a guild commander as his eye lingered over the sultry young Redguard. But he had already been fired from his job as Champion for that, he thought sourly, or that was the excuse at least. No sense making it easy for Oreyn to take his chapter too.

"Oh ho! Watch out for that one Raminus!" J'sharr piped up. "She mates and she kills does the Black Widow!"

"That one just didn't have what it takes!" Aissa took the bottle of flin into her hands with a glimmer in her eyes. "I'm sure the mage here can… measure up."

"Leave the poor man alone, can't you see he's married?" Corentin said, pointing to the white-gold ring on Polus' left hand.

"That's right, I am," Raminus smiled, twisting the ring with finger and thumb, "and in spite of Aissa's most impressive attributes, I intend to remain quite happily that way."

"The magister speaks with wisdom," Morning-Star now stirred himself. The rust-scaled Argonian opened a small keepsake and looked at the portraits within. Like many of the other mercenaries, he wore a suit of elven armor. Unlike them however, a curved Akaviri blade hung at his hip. "Only a fool chases tails when there are warm scales waiting in his nest."

Raminus stepped over to the Argonian and looked down at the locket when the other man held it up. "Is that your family?"

"Indeed," Morning-Star said, making no effort to conceal the pride in his harsh, almost hissing voice. He pointed to a green-scaled Argonian woman on the left, who possessed a line of bony spines adorning either side of her head. "This one is Morning-Star's mate, Hides-In-The-Clouds. A finer swimmer one has never seen." Then he motioned to a male Argonian on the right, who had the same colors that he did, only brighter. "That is Storm-Tail, this one's son. That one was born during a lightning storm, and was so eager to get out of his egg that this one's mate said there must be a storm inside of it as well."

"You are a lucky man Morning-Star." Raminus, laying a friendly hand on the fighter's shoulder. "My Cornelia and I have not been blessed with children, yet at least."

"How old is that tadpole of yours 'Star?" Hirtuleius asked as the bottle came to him. "I haven't seen him in years it seems, ever since you sent him off to that school in the Imp City."

"He has just seen his nineteenth wet season." Morning-Star explained. "His instructors say he is gifted in mathematics. He must get that from his mother, for this one cannot count to eleven without help from his tail!"


Notes: Over The Hills And Far Away is a traditional English song, modified to fit the ES universe.

This post has been edited by SubRosa: Jul 30 2020, 01:44 AM

[Remko]

I'd say the "alchemist" is amongst the "calculated losses" hehe.
I quote from expendable heroes:" Back to the front!"

[D.Foxy]

Then why did you ask in the first place? Pappy thought to himself. Looking into the face of the Redguard, he saw the answer. Just like a woman to give a man a pep-talk by making him do it for himself. Tadrose was the same way, he thought, all women were. Damn sneaky.


QUOTED FOR TRUTH

[haute ecole rider]

"This is four hundred year old flin!" the nobleman exclaimed, then took a long swig from the bottle. A look of contentment settled upon the Breton's face. "How did you get your hands on this?"

"Getting my hands on things I'm not supposed to is a finely-tuned talent of mine." Pappy admitted.

And if I recall correctly, something many old-time USMC NCO's were proud of, especially when posted alongside Army units. Not sure if that's still the case.

Good prelude to the battle. No, I think death at the hands of his fellow FG members is the more likely fate for Calva. I will wait to see if that is what happens next.

[D.Foxy]

Alas, it seems that you did not see the subtle innendo in " Just like a woman...making a man do it for himself"...

You are slipping, nautee hautee!!!

[Olen]

I did have a comment, then what passes for internet in the backwater I'm stuck in died.

So rather less eloquently: I like it. Good depth of character there, enough background to make them individual and so when it all goes wrong you'll be able to evoke emotion in the reader. I also enjoyed the hinted tension between magic and fighting soldiers.

Only a fool chases tails when there are warm scales waiting in his nest.

Brilliant, more bringing the setting alive by showing how different things are for argonians. Sufficently wierd saying to be awarded the random viking too

More? Please?

[Destri Melarg]

Pappy is a man of many parts. In addition to being a good soldier, a respected Guild honcho, and something of a player with the ladies we now discover that he is a leader worth his weight in gold, and a world class dog-robber to boot. That flin probably adorned General Talos’ table, once upon a time.

I am trying not to become too attached to all of the great characters that are being presented, because I know that not all of them will be leaving the Jerall Mountains. The problem is that you are making that extremely hard to do.

[Acadian]

Well done Sub Rosa!

Regarding how Pappy handled the fake alchemist, you did a wonderful job. You are the author here, and your choices are built upon a solid foundation.

I thoroughly loved the interaction between Pappy and Julian. It is difficult to write for someone else's character, but you beautifully reflected a sensitive wisdom that is our endearing Julian.

This post has been edited by Acadian: Jun 9 2010, 04:03 PM

[SubRosa]

Remko: We will just have to wait and see what happens to Calva. Things certainly do not look good for him though...


D.Foxy: Sneaky and proud of it! We do not have to make you men do it yourselves though. You guys seem quite glad to take the initiative on that score.


haute ecole ouroboros: Thank you h.e.o. Between trading and outright stealing, Pappy has a knack for getting whatever he and his people need. One of the things the t.v. series inspired.


Olen: You have skewered my intentions exactly. All of these characterization scenes with the Bravil FG have been a setup to make the costs of this battle feel very real. Thank you about Morning-Star's comment. I worked quite a bit to come up with that one.


Destri Melarg: Does this mean we will be seeing the flin negotiations in Interregnum, in which somehow the bottle never gets opened?


Acadian: Thank you Acadian. Naturally I ran the scene by h.e.o. and got some insight from her before posting it.


All: Now back to the battle

* * *

Chapter 10e - The Battle Of Bruma

From her position high in the air above, Teresa saw that few of the charging clannfears reached the Imperial line. Those that did found islands of steel-clad humans waiting for them. The forester was reminded of a wave striking a rocky shore, the water rushing up with tremendous fury, yet simply evaporating upon contact with the immovable stone.

Teresa's heart leaped within her feathered chest. The first two lines of the Daedric army had been utterly annihilated, and the Imperial army had barely yet begun to fight! For the first time since seeing the Daedric host, she began to think that the humans might actually win.

That is when a deep, rumbling sound came to her ears. Winging to the east, where the noise was loudest, Teresa discovered that two huge black pillars of stone were rising from the wheat. Curved inward like a pair of monstrous fangs, the two prongs of ugly rock crawled up to nearly fifty feet in the sky before stopping.

Then with a sound that was half-shriek, half whoosh of flame, a bright field of red and orange energy sprang up between the two obsidian columns. Fire erupted from the edges of the pillars, quickly creating a pall of oily black smoke that desecrated the blue sky above. Almost as soon as it had formed, rank after rank of dremora came marching from within the gigantic gateway, adding their numbers to the already swollen Daedric host.

Several minutes later, a series of trumpet blasts erupted from the Imperial army. As one, the ranks of legionaries stepped forward, like a single, gigantic creature made of steel. The sound of thunder came to her ears. Yet not from above, but from below, as the legionaries began beating their swords against the iron rims of their shields. Through the terrific din she could hear shouts as well. "Kvatch! Kvatch!"

A series of deep-throated drumbeats echoed from the opposite side of the field, and the next line of the Daedric army moved forward as well. Daedroth, scamps, atronachs, and their dremora overseers alike. They marched not in the perfectly spaced formations of the Imperials, but rather in a mob of loose knots.

Halfway there the Imperial army stopped at another blare of trumpets. Now the archers and light cavalry flowed back through the large gaps in the line. The Redguards rode through the rear of the army and eventually took up positions behind their heavier brethren on the far right. The archers formed lines and began firing in high arcs, so their arrows flew over the heads of their own soldiers, but fell almost directly down upon the oncoming Daedra.

Then finally, as Teresa had imagined they might, the trailing half of each block of infantrymen stepped first to the left, and then forward into the gaps between units, creating a solid line of swords and shields. There they waited, still beating the flats of their blades against their shields and shouting at the monsters approaching them.

Soon bolts of fire and lightning began to erupt from the advancing line of Daedra. They were answered with the same from the mages within the Imperial ranks. Here and there Teresa saw legionaries in the front ranks stagger or fall, only to be carried back to the rear of the formations. There those that could began raising their hands in the air in a familiar gesture that was followed by a disc of white light descending around them. A healing spell, Teresa thought, just like the one she knew. Those that could not do so themselves, were healed by folk wearing the cassocks of priests and priestesses.

Teresa saw no such aid or comfort from the mages in the Daedric ranks. Instead they either flung their magical attacks into the ranks of Imperials, or in some cases into the monsters which they herded, as if to spur them on to action. The Daedra were falling in large numbers by the time they came near to the Imperial lines, many of the larger ones such as the daedroth bristling with numerous arrows. The Imperial army on the other hand remained steadfast, fresh men stepping forward to replace the fallen, and the wounded being healed and retaking their places in the line behind them.

On the far right, the legion cavalry and knights spurred their horses forward in a charge. Fire and lightning struck many, but the heavily armored warriors simply shrugged off the blows and continued on. Lowering their lances as they drew near, they smashed into the ragged lines of Daedra in front of them with a thunderous crash. Impaled by long spears, or bowled over by the armored breasts of great warhorses, the denizens of Oblivion were shattered beneath an avalanche of steel.

Then the line of foot soldiers charged as well, and the fearful work of swords began. The air was filled with a din of metal striking metal, screams of anguish, and cries of victory. The great daedroth bowled over two or even three soldiers at a time with their huge, clawed arms and spiked tails. Yet the legionaries rose and retreated to heal themselves, while fresh troops closed in and struck the behemoths down from all sides. Scamps threw their firebolts at point blank range, only to be cut down by Imperials moments later. Atronachs and spider daedra fell in the same manner, simply overwhelmed by the massed Imperial soldiers.

Teresa saw that while the Daedra fought separately, the Imperials stood together in a single, solid wall that stretched across the plain. While some men might go down or fall back through the line, the formations they were a part of never wavered themselves. They always held solid, with legionaries remaining in columns stretching from the front of the line to the rear, either fighting themselves, or patiently waiting their turn to step into action.

This must be how the Imperials conquered all of Tamriel, Teresa marveled from her vantage point in the sky above. They simply wore their enemies out through teamwork and endurance.

The fighting was over first on the right, at the leading edge of the army. Yet the city guardsmen of Bruma on the far left had yet to even close with the oncoming creatures. Now Teresa understood the reason for the diagonal formation. It kept the weakest troops, the city guardsmen, out of battle as long as possible.

Yet she could see that most of the Daedric host still had yet to engage. As if prompted into action by her thoughts, another series of drumbeats rose into the Bruma sky. With that the long ranks of dremora soldiers finally stepped forward, standards of bones and flayed skin swaying in the air over their horned visages.

This post has been edited by SubRosa: Jun 14 2010, 04:23 PM

[D.Foxy]

Cavalry charge before the infantry step up?



Hmmm....I would most definitely NOT have done that. But perhaps all will become clear in the next post...

One comment: in a cavalry charge it is of critical importance that the entire line strikes at the same moment. This is why in a classic cavalry charge, you will see the horses languidly trotting up about fifty yards from the enemy, at a slow pace which enables the entire line to move forward as one, and then at a trumpet signal the entire line will move up into a gallop. If properly timed the horses will reach top speed just as the lances strike the enemy line. Furthermore, the horses must be close, very close together - almost knee to knee.

Additionally, unless you mean the charge to be a decisive, battle-ending charge, the leader of the charge must NOT be in the front rank, but behind a bit so that he can judge the right moment to call back the charge after the initial damage has been done.

The reason is that the shock of the cavalry charge breaks up the ranks, and cavalry in loose formation are EXTREMELY vulnerable to a counter-charge by a cohesive group of enemy cavalry.

History abounds with examples of tens of thousands of horsemen being routed by two or three thousand horsemen who were in compact formation. Individually the Persians were the best horsemen on the earth, but they simply did not know how to ride together in a group. And that was how Alexander's cavalry destroyed far greater numbers of Persian Cavalry.

[SubRosa]

Well, the cavalry on the right have three options.

1- They can stand there and let the Daedra attack them, which is the absolutely worst thing cavalry can do, since they are an offensive arm, not a defensive one.

2 - They can retreat (either straight back or to the right) and allow the Daedra to envelop the infantry on the right. They might try a counter-charge afterward, and just hope they land it before the infantry collapses.

3 - They can attack the Daedra in the open, before their own dremora infantry can come into action. The Daedra have no cavalry, so there is no danger of a counter-charge by enemy horsemen. In fact, it is the Daedra's nearest approximation to cavalry (in that they are the fastest moving) that the legion horsemen are attacking.

Unless you are referring to the Daedra sending their faster creatures on a headlong charge against the Imperial line? They have not fought in a pitched battle since the days of Alessia, and are more than little rusty. Much like the Gauls, their basic tactic is simply to overwhelm the enemy with a big charge. Unlike the Gauls however, they have good armor and staying power.

They have an entirely different strategy than the human army, relying simply on massive wave attacks to first wear down, and then finally overcome the human army. The dremora commander is quite happy to waste the clannfears and other beast-Daedra in such a fashion. He will eventually get them back when they respawn in Oblivion, and they will leave his dremora in the position to deliver the killing blow and take all the glory from victory.

This post has been edited by SubRosa: Jun 11 2010, 03:28 AM

[haute ecole rider]

Well written. I liked returning to the overview for the main battle, since it's so hard for a single man (i.e. Pappy) to see the entire thing from the ground. At the front, it's just chaos for the grunts.

[Destri Melarg]

I have learned a great deal through reading both the chapter and the discussion of cavalry tactics that followed it. I agree with haute that returning to the ‘bird’s eye’ view of the battle was a great choice. Everything was so well described, from the crashing of that first wave of clanfear (or would that be clanfears?) to the final horn that prompted the bulk of the Daedric host to engage. I especially liked the description of the priests healing injured soldiers under a cloud of white magic, and those soldiers retaking their places on the line.

The only suggestion I would make is to be sure that Teresa doesn’t become too removed from events while in raven form. You once told me that you felt no visceral pain from Arnand when he was stabbed by the pirate. Allow me to return the favor by pointing out to you that, with all the steel and daedric weapons flying around, we don’t hear the screams of the wounded and the dying. In raven form Teresa should be able to smell the blood and the loosened bowels and bladders of the men fighting for their lives.

Destri Melarg: Does this mean we will be seeing the flin negotiations in Interregnum, in which somehow the bottle never gets opened?

Oh you've got my mind racing now! Be on the lookout for an unopened bottle of flin in the future!

[Olen]

Woo the battle. I can't comment on tactics as I know more or less nothing about medieval tactics (on that scale anyway). The daedric strategy of the mass charge is good though and makes the eventual outcome (at least the one I expect) believable as history shows that it doesn't always work .

While I agree with Destri that Teresa feels detatched from the battle I see it as less of a problem, you ahve pappy for the gritty sweat and blood stuff and seeing as Teresa is having a vision as a raven at the moment it doesn't strike me as incongrous that she is a bit detached.

And the healing spells, makes sense I suppose, though I'd have considered having the priests higher up raining 'on target' spells, at least those who could aim