Legend of Zachary Sainte: Part 2

Jp with Thaen

Middle of the Mage Wars, YBTR 20, Verden

The black armored warrior looked across a battlefield filled with frozen corpses. He held his helmet in his hand, allowing his silver hair to blow in the air. He looked coldly at the frozen bodies, "The masses of weakness always listen to the false voice. Unfortunate souls dying for a false cause." His voice was cold and harsh as winter winds, and as deep as a glacier. His mere presence sending icy chills around him, many of his soldiers knew, even before the massacre, that the man could easily kill them without effort.

"If it is the only cause they know, then how are they guilty of following false ideals?" A single voice spoke from behind him. Its owner came forward, a tall sort of man with a beard that was already beginning to be shot through with gray. Unlike Sainte's eyes, his were kinder, gentler even. He was one of the few that matched his gaze and did not cower.

"Stormcrow," spoke the Lord of the Frozen Heart. He slightly smiled in his presence. "You always were a sympathizer. A poor mistake. If I had not seen your work, I would have thought you a seditious instigator."

"One needs to sympathize, Lord Sainte," Enanth said calmly. "To not is to be less human. Our enemy has many people who will not raise a hand in anger."

"The words of a man of peace." Zachary glanced at the mage. "You shouldn't be fighting in this war if that is what you believe."

Enanth watched the man place his helmet back on before turning to his steed, Frostmere. The magical horse left trails of icy mist as it turned at the behest of its rider, hoof prints leaving frost in the afternoon sunlight. Behind Enanth, the army lay waiting. Men-at-arms and trained battle mages prepared for combat even as the magically constructed trebuchets pulled back their slings. Into them, he watched, went the spell crystals infused with power.

He turned back to the Verden capital. Along the walls, ballista and catapults were being manned even as lines of archers appeared behind the merlons. Fires were lit, leaving trails of smoke in the air even as the sound of defenses crashed and were pushed into place beyond sight. It would be a glorious battle.

It would be a massacre. Enanth knew why they fought. He did not need to agree and he truly did not. He would see this through, his word given. It would not be the way that Zachary Sainte wanted.

Soon, the Dalish army began to move. Spells of invisibility covered portions of the army as they moved towards the waiting defenses. The cloudless sky began to spontaneously thunder ominously as clouds appeared, first as wisps that began to grow into full clouds. Their white color was becoming gray as the first salvo of arrows took to the sky. At this range, spells easily dissuaded the approaching missiles.

Closer still they moved and without pause did the defenders send another swarm of arrows to the approaching host. The mages answered with more gust of wind spells. Already were Sainte's dedicated sappers laying the spell weave to pass through the walls. Beneath the helmet, Sainte coldly watched the combat. It would be a simple matter to swat aside these defences and make their way. He might even take the head of a king today, the mood was right.

There were five sudden explosions as the sappers reached the walls. They were a foot under the ground, spells parting earth to gain entry. No one knew what had happened, only the winking out of magical sources where they were. The explosions themselves ripped up earth and threw dust into the air. Simply grimacing, Zachary Sainte directed half a regiment to push through the dust and smoke to the wall.

Javelins ablaze with lit oil began to spear through the formations. Support casters began to raise up magical walls of invisible force even as they shifted earth into berms. They hid in defilade against many, men and women died horrifically to the onslaught.

Zachary lifted his hand, having his men retreat. The Verden soldiers poorly believed this as a sign of victory. As the defenders readied their bows and crossbows, they were greeted by a wave of frost, freezing in place. Zachary motioned his soldiers to move again. The soldiers charged back in, some smashing the frozen bodies of Verden's guards with well placed shots. He watched the massacre, his steed approached the wall with the frozen corpses. Without archers laying into them, it was a simple matter to breach open the stone.

Enanth watched Zachary's precision, valor, and cruelty in the battle. The man kept the same face through it all, as if in a trance. Death and destruction fueled this man, watching Verden suffer pleased him, more than ever.

As the first line of defense fell back, they gave ground sparingly. Every inch of retreat was a running battle. Dalish trebuchets launched their spellbound payloads far into the city, radial blasts of frost and fire catching folk and soldiers alike in unassuming indirect fire. It truly seemed that victory was near.

The advance into the city was slowed as mages were forced to let their men-at-arms move in. Broken and flaming wagons dotted the streets, some pushed into barricades while others had been caught by the artillery that pounded away with abandon. Smoke filled the alleyways and roads as the sound of battle echoed all around.

It was as they made it to the first market square that the ambush was sprung. Crossbowmen, clothed in the long sweeping trench coats of the Inquisition, sprung up from hiding places along the road, stores, and rooftops. Their volley was aimed true. Mages raised protection spells even as Lord Sainte watched those bolts pierce those spells easily. His hand raised to swat away the rest. He raised an eyebrow as those bolts continued through to find their targets.

Those Inquisition soldiers who were upon the ground wasted no time in dropping their crossbows and drawing their swords. All could see the steel gaze of the Inquisitors was unwavering even as spells began to rain on them. They confidently stepped forward and slew the first rank of mages without a thought. Zachary Sainte dismounted and leveled his sword towards his foes. Enanth Stormcrow stepped forth beside him, Galan duly shining from the fires as the skies finished darkening and lightning played across the sky.

The first calmly walked forward to them as others battled. "By decree of His Royal Majesty, long may he reign, you and your hosts are guilty of unsanctioned magical practice and unchecked magical aggression against the common folk. Surrender now, Lord Sainte, and the purges will be quick and painless. Resist us and we will find every mage that played a part in this invasion, painfully," spoke the Inquisitor.

Zachary did not stop his stride as he spoke, merely walking up the man and beheading him before the parry could come. He turned his head and sent a wave of ice freezing the first line of Inquisitors. "A man doesn't surrender to fools and corpses. All of you have been found guilty of the crime of assault and manslaughter. Your execution has commenced. Pray to your gods now."

Zachary himself took on a large force of Inquisitors, the battle was one of nightmares. Red ice covered the warriors, the ground, and the city, men and women were butchered left and right. For hours, Stormcrow and Sainte fought against the blades of the Inquisition. A crossbow bolt buried itself into the armor of Sainte as he shattered an Inquisitor with barely a glance. Enanth suffered a slice along his left leg, electricity arcing from his sword as he brought it down upon the offender, hand parting from wrist with a bloody scream.

The battle wore on as Dalish and Verden troops pushed and repulsed each other. One street would be claimed as another wall was reclaimed. Ballista fire sporadically appeared even as the trebuchets ceased their artillery. Homes, businesses, and even parks were battlegrounds for the two. Spell shattered streets as the footfalls of both hoof and boot charged each other. A Dalish soldier died screaming for his mother as he held what remained of himself in. A Verden battle cleric yelled defiance as he stood alone against a host of summoned elementals. Amongst the symphony of battle, a child cried for his parents amidst the ruins of his once fair home.