Burgundy: Origin of the Free Company: Book One

[hjarg]

French were approaching fast. Too fast- archers only managed to get 2 shots at them, killing few of then and hitting one poor bastard in his big toe, making him jump up and down. French answered with archer fire as well. Men were hiding behind walls and arrows hit the earth couple of meters behind them.

Ash stood next to the western gate. This was most likely the main target for French assault. 6 scots were standing next to him and only couple of carts to block the French.

And the enemy came, came like waves in stormy sea. Unstoppable.

Ash moved his swords. First blade hit the stomach of Frenchman climbing the cart, another beheaded soldier trying to crawl under the cart. Scots were busy as well- swinging their claymores and swearing curses to French.

Another French lost his hand and retreated, screaming. Then one got stabbed in his leg. French screamed and spread his legs a bit. Ash's blade mada a quick move and nutered the man, forcing him to flee as well.

Then it became quiet. French had pulled back. Ash looked around- out of 6 scots, two were killed and one was injured quite badly. Ash told the injured man to get out of here.

Then an arrow came, hitting one Scot straight into his eye. Only Ash and 2 Scots left.

The French came again. This time they approached from sides and pulled the carts aside. The road to village was open and French started swarming in.

Suddenly, the noticed a small figure, wearing all black, standing in their way. The figure leaned agianst his swords. Two Scots were standing behind him, blood dripping from their claymores.

"You cannot pass," the figure said.

French hesitated for a moment, then started approaching.

 

[Barkdreg]

the French attack

First let's get some things straight:
1)Bloomers, I'd appreciate it if you stopped calling me Dutch.
I'm Flemish, TheF will agree that this is a difference.
2)The attack on the village was easy to predict, after all every commander would at least send a scout to see what happened to his sixty men. And if he send 60 to a smelly village he'll certainly try to get it back.
Now back to the slaughter.
*********************

The village was in danger of being overrun, 250 against 50.
Hardly fair, if those 50 had been Templars it wouldn't have been a problem. But they weren't, formidible fighters the Scots were theywere to lightly armoured. A blow that would dent a Templar's armour would prove lethat for a clansman.
The could only hope that reinforcements would arrive.

Barkdreg mounted and took his lance.
He shouldn't have driven of on his one, he should have taken the horsemen under his command with him. That would have made a difference. Sadly he hadn't, so he was the only one to drive back the Frogs that managed to break trough the defences.
He spurred his horse and started galopping to a gap in the wall.
The defenders, some pikewielding peasants, were backing away from the French attackers. Barkdreg cursed the cowards.

Jean had scaled the wall and killed one of the peasants defending it,
surely he would be rewarded for being the firts in the village.
He never felt this good.
His mood somehow worsened when he saw a knight charging at him, lannce leveled at his heart. Jean died with a look of terror on his face.

Barkdreg dropped his lance and drew his sword, with a single stroke he chopped of an arm. The fighting stopped. 3 French tried to clamber over the wall, only to be stabbed to death by the peasants.
Good that was 5 less French to kill, only 245 to go and the battle was won.

 

[unmerged(2540)]

I post too many OOC stuff? Well, that's just great...

Bloody Hell! We lost how many men?!"

As the battle settled into a siege of sorts, Walalce decided that this would not do. Even as he thought this, he had a great idea. The walls that surrounded part of the village[Where did they come from? How big is this village???] formed a perfect chokepoint. Hemoved three of his men towards the chokpoint, and prepared to do what was known to his men as the "Suicidal Step". He and his three men stood up, and with a yell, charged through the chokepoint. It worked. The French saw these three Scots rushing them, and before thinking, charged. Wallace and his men made an incredibly orderly retreat, and the French all got caught in the chokepoint. And they were easily slaughtered. Wallace motioned for a few men to come and cover the area. He then went to the other side of the village, and did the same thing. He managed, with his three men, to kill off close to 20 of the siegers using the chokepoints. This only incensed other siegers, and the attackers charged again. This time, the Scots were very prepared. Fer chrissake, you'd think they never had encountered archers before. As the enemy arhcers let loose, Wallace called out "SHIELDS!" and his men rasied the wood, any piece they could grab, up, joining them all together to form a very effective wall above them. None of his men died this time. And as the enemy came, instead of a bunch of injured Scots, they found a bunch of PISSED Scots. And now the claymores really took their toll. They easily were longer than the swords being used by the French and the Orleannais fighters. By a good 2 feet! So this time, instead of suffering ridiculous casualties, as had happened before, none died this time around. And, And they took at least 40 of the damned enemy bastards from the ranks of the French and the Orleannais. He organized the men into better groups. hose who had suffered injuries outright refused to leave their brothers-in-arms. Wallace actually wiped away a tear at the bravery of his men. They were ready to fight to the death. But damned to hell and back a thousand times, they sure as shit would not give in and give up as easily as they had the first time around. Wallace would kill a hundred of them by himself if he had to. Rat bastards! The lot of em...

 

[Sgt. Bloomfield]

Re: the French attack

Originally posted by Barkdreg
First let's get some things straight:
1)Bloomers, I'd appreciate it if you stopped calling me Dutch.
I'm Flemish, TheF will agree that this is a difference.

Does that mean I can call you a bi-chromosome dimwitted Flemish on steroids with a behavioral problem? Ahh, good times, good times. Remember, Barky how you kidnapped the wrong baby and found out halfway to France? Or when Warspite leant you a "hand" and you
returned it? That reminds me, it's been a while since I did one of those "Children laugh and women worry, Brakdreg walks through Canterbury..." poems...

-------------------------------

April 1, evening. Free Company Fort

Lieutenant Edmond de Bloomfielde sat back and let out a sigh. The last rays of the sinking sun played on the straining dirty backs of his and Pohlman's toiling men who were constructing some sort of machine. Well, to judge from the howls of pain and the cursing and the screaming of Pohlman and his sergeants, they were having fun. It certainly looked messy, though...

Bloomfielde sipped his Maiden of Orleans* and hummed a little tune. It gave him great satisfaction to watch Rosencrantz and Guildenstern clean out the foul horse stables. It wasn't that he had resented them telling him about Alberic's stupid song, or about the fact that they remembered it and sang it for him. No, it was the fact that they had laughed about it, the dogs...

Bloomfielde took another sip. Captain sauntered over and sat next to Bloomfielde. Bloomfielde offered him a drink, but for some reason, Captain declined. They discussed the possibility of a fight in the woods and chatted about the siege a little. They laughed when Spiros fell in the mud, face down. Then Bloomfield said, "Hey, Captain, listen to this, I just made it up:

Children scream and mongrels howl,
Alberic is on the prowl:
Stinking breath and smelly feet,
Rancid hair, nose like a beet.

Women faint and birds fall down,
the stench makes even Scotsmen frown.
Captain bravely blocks his path:
Alberic, go take a bath!

----------
*) To make a Maiden of Orleans at home, take two parts warm goats milk, one part mead, four parts hard grape liquor (e.g. grappa), one teaspoon lard, and a pinch of rosemary. Shake, don't stir. Serve in wooden cups. Cheers!

 

[Rictus]

If you go down into the woods today, you'll find mercenaries...

OOC: Who needs reinforcements, when you have invincible Scotsmen?
___________

The relief column was winding its way through the forest, with Edward, Cross and De Crecy at its head, chatting idly to waste the time. The Scotsman had also been invited forward, and was acting as a pathfinder, when he came bounding back.

"Ach! Lef-tenan' sir! I hear fittin' up ahead" Seraphim and his sergeants craned forward to hear and indeed, they were shouts and the distinctive crash of steel on steel. THe sergeants, needing no prompting, wheeled around and barked at the men to hurry up.

Edward faced the Scot. "I want you to move ahead and scout out the positions, don't under any circumstances, attack. I want those birgands to think the village is isolated and cut off"

The Scot nodded and darted off into the forest while the column picked up the pace.

********

The defenders were fighitng vailently. But the French were no fools, and Wallace was grudingly admitting that after he tried his 'chokepoint' tactic one time and instead of charging the three brave kilters, archers picked off all three before they had time to retreat.
"Serves them right for exposing themselves" Barkdreg grumbled. He had taken a nasty wound across his lance arm, and even though it burned, he could still move it.
More enemy troops were arriving now, and began pulling down the low walls, with archers covering them as they did so. Despite that, they still took heavy casaulties.

********

The Reinforcements ground to a halt some two or three hundred yards away from the village, where the Scotsman was waiting.

"How many are there?"

"'undreds, sir, 'undreds! And they've caught Wee WIllie and his bunch inside, we'll have to help!"

"Good man. I assure you, you'll be joining your comrades soon" Edward turned to Cross, "Sergeant, I need you to send a messenger back to Camp, this is way more than we can handle here. Tell Captain we're going to fight our way in to relieve the defenders."
Cross nodded and moved away, signalling for a tall, lanky lad to come to him.

"Right!" Edward called out, "We did this quickly! I want all of you to pair up," he waited while they did so "I want one of the pair to try and get into the village as quickly as possible, I want the other half to cover them. Hilburn, you're with me" He said, to a un-paired private, who blanched at the thought. "On three, we move in"

Through the trees, they could tell another attack had begun, not as big as the others, but significant none the less. Edward counted his heartbeat and unsheathed his sword. "I'll cover you" he said to Hilburn, "You just keep your head down and run...One," he called out, something that was echoed by the sergeants,

"Two..."

"Three!" And they charged.

 

[Cockney]

OOC: leave some for us H_S!

-----------------------------

The Moors arrived within sight of the village, Edward had allowed them to go on ahead with their light armour because they could move faster than the rest, he could see the defenders fending off the French attacks but they were being hurt quite badly and it was only a matter of time before the French brought their superior numbers to bear.

Cockney brought his men off the road into a copse and told them his plan.

"Alright, the Scots are holding the Western gate fairly well, but the French are regrouping for another attack by the looks of it, so we are gonna see 'ow many there are and skirmish wiv 'em a bit , then report back to the guvnor and give 'im a hand. So Ahmed, you and the other bowmen will fire off a few volleys to 'elp out the Scots then we withdraw. Ok lets go"

They were now nearly out in the open, it was only a matter of time before the French saw them, he heard the scream of a Scot hit by an arrow "ok, archers ready, on my mark...
"SHIT!" Someone shouted as a man on horseback came out of nowhere and was galloping towards the Moors, Ishmael, a young man from Persia couldn't get his spear up fast enough was hacked down, the rider slashed at Omar next who reacted quickly, deflecting the blow with his glove, he was knocked to the ground, Abdul thrust his spear into the rider's gut.

Ahmed and the others started firing and some of the Frenchmen came to deal with this new threat "Retreat, come back to the road" said Cockney, the men fired a final volley and then began an orderly retreat, which became rather disorderly as the French started to gain on them. The men reached the road where the lieutenant was standing with the other men

"What did you see?" Asked Edward
"about 35-40 Frogs, Abdul reckons there could be double that"
"Were you spotted?"
"err, yes guv, 1 man killed, we killed maybe 5 Frenchmen"
"Well they've cut off the southern entrance, so are going in pairs into the village to relieve the defenders"

Cockney relayed the message to his men

"Two..."
"Three"

They charged at the village, half the men to go inside, half to stop them from being completely cut off by the French and to await reinforcements.

It was hard to see much through the trees, he saw Omar and Abdul running as fast as they could for the village, the lieutenant was also making for the village, the French were nowhere to be seen, "maybe this won't be so hard after all" thought Cockney as he moved up next to Abdul

WOOOOOSSH

A volley of arrows came from the woods killing 2 men fell near Cockney "keep going!" shouted Edward. A few company bowmen returned fire as he led some of his men against the French bowmen who began to withdraw, A French jumped up and speared one soldier Cockney stabbed him with his sword, more were lying in wait and at least two Scots went down in the next few seconds before the offending French were subdued Cockney looked over at the Lieutenant who was merrily slashing his way through the now fleeing French bowmen, most of the men who were supposed to get to the village had made it in.

"Halt!" Said Edward "back to the road" The men stopped their pursuit and started walking back towards the road "Any idea of losses" he said turning to cross
"3 dead, 5 wounded, 2 seriously for us sir. And at least 10 dead Frenchmen dead or dying
"What now sir?" asked Cockney

 

[TheF]

At the same time as Bloomfield's last post.

Faolan was a strong supporter of leading by example, so he worked as hard as - maybe even harder then - any of the men building the engine. This trebuchet truly was something, it should be able to wreak havoc amongst the French, which was another good reason for him to work hard.

"Come on! We can still get some good work done before darkness sets in!"

The men grumbled a little, yet continued to work.

 

[The Danish King]

OOC: Sorry that I have not posted for a long time, but my internet server host have been down for 2 days.
-----------------------------------------

Knud took on his Norman helmet, grabbed his mighty Dane-Axe, prayed to God and walked towards the walls.

The French were trying to scale the wall.

"Damn French, will they never learn?"
Knud saw a french jumping on the other side of the wall from his ladder, but was met by Knud, the french saw the size of him and jumped over the side again, down to his comrades.

"Bugger! I want a peice of the action dammit." Knud said out loud.
Another Froggie came over along with 2 others, 2 of them holding swords and the last holding a halberd.

"Time to die froggies!! AAARRRGGGG!!!" yelled Knud and charged

Knud swung his mighty axe towards the man holding the halberd, who had't gotten it down yet to face towards Knud. He chopped off the pointy end of the halberd, leaving the French with a stick instead of a weapon, the French fleed over the wall.

Knud swung again towards the 2nd man holding a sword, breaking the man's shield and going straight into the arm of him, chopping it off.

"AARrgg! Merde, im un-done." said the French and collapsed in pain, screaming.

The 3rd however, seized the moment when Knud was about to swing again, stabbing him in the arm.

"Hahahahaha, thats the best you can do?" asked Knud

"Err...oui."

Knud dropped his axe, picked up his sidearm, a mace, and smashed the skull of the french.

 

[das]

OCC: Guys, you are great writers - one day we had 7 pages, and now it's 9!
--------------------------------------------------------
Well, plan with "father's son" has failed. But Dashart and his closest advisor - Yoav still were wanting to gain some more men. But orders - are orders, and so Jews were patrolling to the north from Orleans. On their way, Yoav has thoughts of official name of this group - "Askenazi Lions". They were riding near the forest, but suddenly, there was an ambush. Sudden French attack from forest. "Retreat! We don't stand no chance" - yelled Dashart - "We need to exhaust them - this is mainly crossbowmen and halebardiers, so we can get waway to the camp!" "Lions" has quickly started retreating, but one of them has stayed and killed 5 Frenchmen. "We need to save him" - proclaiemd Dashart, and understood - it's Yoav who stayed. "Charge!!!" - d' Elssace has shouted. Army charged at Frenchmen, and, eventually, Frenchmen were so shocked, so they started retreating. Yoav was said, but Frenchmen understood that it's just a few men, and started chase. It was like a nightmare then. "Ashkenazi Lions" were riding in gallop, after them were flying arrows, and in the end, hordes of Frenchmen - 1000 men as Yoav has counted - were chasing "Lions" with horrifying battlecry. But "Lions" managed to escape. Near the Free Company camp, Frenchmen has started retreat, but there, "Lions" has turned back, and attacked French. Exhausted Frenchmen were so tired, they couldn't resist "Lions". They turned into panicing mob, which was retreating in disorder. Frenchmen has over 50 men loosed, while Jews didn't loosed anyone - only Yoav was heavily wounded, and two other men were wounded slightly. Pishtaco has stayed with Yoav, while Dashart has asked for an audence with Captain...
---------------------------------
OCC: Okay, Lord Durham, can you make my hero talk with the Captain, and make him report about the "incindent" with Frenchmen, please? Also, any other orders from Mr. Captain?
And please, don't make Yoav die!

 

[das]

Okay now this is OCC, but - I want to fill my bio information on Website:
Name: Dashart d' Elssace
Owner: das
Birthplace: Besancon
Physical Description: very tall
Armour/Weapons: sword and shield (with picture of white lion and words: "Mi Kamoha, Adonai")
Notes: Former duke of Lower Alsace, the only Jewish feudal in Western Europe
Rank: Cavalry Commander
C.O.: Captain
Troops: 20 light cavalrymen
Okay, so how about that.

 

[Sgt. Bloomfield]

Captain and Bloomfielde were still laughing about the silly song when there was a commotion. Dashart d'Elssace came staggering toward the two officers shouting "Captain! Captain! Captain!"

Bloomfielde frowned. It was hard to tell if the man was hurt or drunk.

Dashart stumbled forward and grasped Captain's arm.

"Captain! I must report an incident! A French incident! Jews were patrolling to the north from Orleans. On their way, Yoav has thoughts of official name of this group - "Askenazi Lions". They were riding near the forest, but suddenly, there was an ambush. Sudden French attack from forest. "Retreat! We don't stand no chance" - yelled Dashart - "We need to exhaust them - this is mainly crossbowmen and halebardiers, so we can get waway to the camp!" "Lions" has quickly started retreating, but one of them has stayed and killed 5 Frenchmen. "We need to save him" - proclaiemd Dashart, and understood - it's Yoav who stayed. "Charge!!!" - d' Elssace has shouted. Army charged at Frenchmen, and, eventually, Frenchmen were so shocked, so they started retreating. Yoav was said, but Frenchmen understood that it's just a few men, and started chase. It was like a nightmare then. "Ashkenazi Lions" were riding in gallop, after them were flying arrows, and in the end, hordes of Frenchmen - 1000 men as Yoav has counted - were chasing "Lions" with horrifying battlecry. But "Lions" managed to escape. Near the Free Company camp, Frenchmen has started retreat, but there, "Lions" has turned back, and attacked French. Exhausted Frenchmen were so tired, they couldn't resist "Lions". They turned into panicing mob, which was retreating in disorder. Frenchmen has over 50 men loosed, while Jews didn't loosed anyone - only Yoav was heavily wounded, and two other men were wounded slightly."

Captain scratched his head. "Mmmmh," he said. He must be scared about all those French!, thought Dashart.

"Sir Dashart," asked Captain, "you mean to tell me there were 1000 Frenchmen north of here and the Duke of Bedfort was not aware of them, and did not sally out from his position?"

"Yes!"

"And your man Yoav engaged 1000 Frenchmen, bowmen and halberdiers, killed five, and did not even have his horse killed?"

"Yes, but he was wounded! Bad!"

"I see...," said Captain. "And then twenty of you charged the 1000 French bowmen and halberdiers and rescued your man Yoav, with two lightly wounded?"

"Yes!"

"Then you fled and the 1000 Frenchmen followed until they were exhausted?"

"Yes. They were very tired from the running, you see, running after our horses! They were fast Frenchmen!"

"Then you and your twenty men turned and charged the 1000 Frenchmen and chased them all away without losing a single man?'

"Yes. Well, there were only 995 left, you see, and they were tired. Very tired."

"And then you and your men killed fifty Frenchmen..."

"Yes! Aren't you going to stop asking questions and do something Captain! There are 945 deadly tired Frenchmen out there!"

"Just one last question: Were the Frenchmen drunk?"

"No, Captain!" said Dashart d'Elssace indignantly, "they were sober dangerous, armed Frenchmen! My men are Lions!"

Captain turned away. "Guards!" he called, "this man is drunk! Take him away, and lock him away for the night. He'll report to me in the morning."

Three men sprang forward, seized Dashart and led him away, kicking and screaming, "Captain! The Frenchmen! A curse on your mangy hide!"

Captain looked at Bloomfielde and shook his head.

Bloomfielde raised his cup in a toast. "Lions, Sir, they're lions! Here's to the Azhkenasi Lions!"

 

[Derek Pullem]

April 1 - Frederick's Folly

Pohlman strode around the busy workplace as the base of the trebuchet took shape. The response from the rest of the compnay had been nothing short of miraculous. Faolan and Scherer had thrown themselves into the task of organising the construction of the engine with gusto.

Even better news was the arrival of a "liberated" barrel of black powder from the English. It hadn't been too hard to deflect the English officer who had come round the camp looking for his lost barrel the morning after.

Still you could never have too much of a good thing. "Spiros!" called out Frederick. "I have a job for you"

"Spiros, you remember how we made our own powder in Bavaria?"

"Ja, boss. You want me to do that job again...." Spiros obviously wasn't looking forward to the task. "I couldn't get the stink off my clothes for days last time!"

"No, no Spiros. I thought you might go to the Captain to see if he had any hot heads who need cooling down a bit. Leaching the saltpetre out of horse dung is a valuable task, if a bit smelly! I'm sure you can supervise the process - from afar of course" chuckled the German.

"Now, lets see how Faolan is getting on with those ropes....."

 

[Rictus]

OOC: Oh gawd, Bloomfield, make it stop! That was just too funny. Thank god I dont have to share an office, though my girlfirend did have to find out what all the fuss was about, but she didn't get the joke. Bless.

 

[Lord Durham]

OOC: Danish King, no need to be confused. You're exactly where you're supposed to be. Nice action. At least you weren't being 'Rambo'.

Cockney: If I can suggest you check your PM box a bit more often. It's usually the way we like to communicate changes and co-ordinate events - especially on-going battles. Nice stuff BTW.

Sgt.B: Brilliant. Need I say more.

Derek: He's all yours.

Just a quick note on the 'Rambo' effect. While it's nice that everyone is the consummate warrior, having one guy take out 30 is hardly realistic. Can we lean a little more towards realism please?

-------------------------------------

April 1 - Nightfall


Colonel Robspierre sensed victory. These men in skirts fought magnificently with their long sweeping swords, rushing up and down the stone wall pushing back attempts to climb over. Three of them tried a ruse by luring his men in, and it worked, once. Now those three were laying at the mouth of the entrance feathered with crossbow bolts.

At the west entrance a Knight held his ground, a veritable statue that beat off attack after attack. But even he was tired and injured. Each swing of the sword was slower and sloppier.

There was a small man without armour, with strange coloured skin and even stranger eyes, who ran the length of the east wall, his twin blades dealing death and pain.

Then there was the giant. He guarded the west entrance, his great axe singing a song of death, clearing a path with wide sweeping arcs of the huge weapon. Robespierre saw him take a wound and laugh it off, then calmly smash the skull of the brigand.

But the French and her allies were winning. Many of the enemy were down, and his men were clamouring over the reinforced wall.

Then it happened. Bursting from the forest came a group of warriors. Robspierre was surprised. Moors! What in God's name... They took some of his men in the rear, causing the attack on the east wall to falter. Then his men regrouped and began to counter attack the lightly armed men.

Then came the next attack, as more men poured from the forest and fell on the men of the west wall. They quickly rolled up to the village entrance until they reached the Knight. With a renewed vigor the Knight launched himself back into the fray.

Robespierre had seen enough. Light was failing, and his own men would soon become a danger to themselves. He would regroup. The Colonel signaled for the trumpet, and a clear note cut through the din of battle. Almost reluctantly, his men broke off the attack and made their way back to the rally point.

Colonel Robespierre needed time to think.

 

[unmerged(6267)]

April 1st - meanwhile at the Free Company camp

Casimir was bored. His men were tending their wounds and their mounts. The men were in pretty good shape after the ambush... petty brigands just didn't know how to deal with well-armored knights on horse. The horses had nicks and a few nasty cuts. Mostly from stomping on armored men.

About that time one of Kishlansky's men showed up with a captured French knight in tow. This made Cas think. "Oh yeah, anybody know where the captives are from the ambush."

"I think I saw the Moors rounding them up, Sir."

"Hmmm... they must be around here somewhere."

Casimir took charge of the captured knight and quickly found the other prisoners. He could tell that the brigands recognized the knight and decided to question them all singly. All afternoon he asked questions with the intent of uncovering minor details about the brigand's organization.

After a few hours, he felt he had uncovered something very interesting. The knight let slip a few comments that taken with what the others had to say only meant one thing....

Casimir had to find Captain... He had to find him right away.

 

[unmerged(6021)]

Wee Willie's boy's last stand?

Duncan McG looked around him. There were 4 other Scots with him at the northeast corner of the village. Approaching him was a lot of brigands.

Duncan yelled to the others "keep them off the walls." The Scots spread out to make the best use of the claymores.

As the brigands approached they gave a ragged cheer.

The Scots stood grimly by the wall. One of the brigands made directly for Duncan yelling in broken english "can you fight, man in women's dress". Duncan stooped and picked up a large rock and hit the fellow in the shoulder. As the brigand lost his footing Duncan swung his claymore, cleaving the brigand's chest. Two more climbed over the wall, Duncan wrested the claymore from the dead man's chest. The claymore made an evil swish as it swung through the air, catching the second brigand's sword and twirling it away into the dirt. Duncan could see surprise and then fear in the enemy's eyes, as his claymore continued its swing decapitating the brigand.

The third brigand yelled in horror as his partner's head bounced at his feet. He turned tail and ran back over the wall.

The brigands had retreated. They had held the wall, this time. Of the other Scotsmen, one was dead, another wounded.

Damn the wound on his armed ached.

The damned brigands regrouped for another charge, when a trumpt sounded and they retreated into the forest.

"Another day," Duncan thought, "we live for another day"

 

[Lord Durham]

April 1 - Evening

"You want him Spiros, you can have him." Captain said. Bloomefielde sat in the corner of the tent, laughing his head off.

A guard poked his head in. "Sir Sobieski's here Captain."

"Send him in." Captain went over to pour some wine. He didn't trust the water around here with dysentary running rampant in the English camp.

The Knight entered and Captain handed him a goblet.

Casimir took it and said, "I was talking to some of he French prisoners. One of them had something you might want to hear."

Captain sat down, reached over and held up a letter. "I got this from Faolan. He got it from a Frenchman at the caravan ambush. A while ago before he left Lochlan told me about a meeting with a French Colonel and some English knights. Please, either clear up, or add to the mystery."


------------------------

Derek: Can you adjust the date to the first, please?

stickman: Good post. Can you edit on a line at the end mentioning the reinforcements arriving and the French pulling back? Thanks. Saves me from deleting and reposting my post.

 

[unmerged(2540)]

Rambo? Hell, it wasn't just me, I had help...

Wallace had taken a crossbow bolt in the arse. Not the most dignified way to get shot, but what can you do. He was seriously reconsidering his joining this damned Free Company. Christ, his men had seen more battle than most of the others combined, yet here he was, watching his men get picked off a bit at a time. After this was all over, he would definitely have to go back to the old country, and bring a corpse wagon with him to bury his men in proper, Scottish lands. This was so bloody wrong. Wallace's[?] only comfort was that the archers were now doing less and less firing into the mix. His shield wall tactic was working very well. He ahd heard the commotion, seen the Moors come. Good, more people to use as fodder to protect his men. As he grunted as one of the Mackenzie Brothers pulled the bolt out of his ass, he wondered how it was that a backwards little village had grown into such a ruddy important piece of shite. Why the hell were the Brigands attacking with an army. In fact, they were not brigands. No brigands organized themselves this well. This had to be a ruddy army. Wallace pondered how he would get out of this bloody awful shite. He only hoped that by the time it was over he had not lost all the members of Wee Willies Bunch. Christ, but this village would be burnt to the ground by he and his men after this was all over, such was the pain it had caused them...

Doug Mackenzie watched as another Scotsman fell to the ground, after having looked over the top of the wall, an arrow in his throat. Christ, but after seeing so much battle, so much victory, would this be the end of Wee Willie's Bunch? Doug shuddered as he thought it was all too likely, the way his comrades were falling like flies.He swore, after this, he would personally resign from the Company if they were not amply compensated for their losses. This was gonna be one of those times were nothing went right, wasn't it?

 

[Derek Pullem]

Spiros has some fun! Evening April 1

Spiros entered the tent where Dashart was kept under guard.

"Sir Dashart, the Captain, he has given me your new orders. You help Lieutenant Pohlman and Spiros in making black powder for guns"

Dashart spluttered "But that is not a suitable occupation for the former Duke of Lower Alsace!"

Spiros shrugged "Is what Captain wants, Lieutenant Frederick wants - you help or you stay here. Your choice?"

Dashart sighed and followed the Greek out of the tent. They walked to the back of the stable area.

"This is plan." Spiros explained to Dashart "Straw and dung is gathered from horses and placed in pit. Need big pit. Leave pit for two weeks. Dig shit pit up and mix with wood ashes and place in special barrels Spiros make. Add some water. Collect liquid in bottom of barrels"

Dashart's eyes widened and his jaw fell open in amazement.

"Pour liquid into big barrels full of straw and wood ash. Collect liquid from bottom. Boil liquid in big pot and take scum off the top.
Add some sour wine and boil until water goes away and Saltpetre left. Good, hard work. Very important. Ask Spiros if you have questions"

"But who will do this?" asked Dashart.

"Captain says you do. You are Azhkenasi Lion. Can beat 1,000 Frenchmen with 20 horsemen, can do anything! See you tomorrow. Pi needs digging. Night"

Spiros turned and made his way back to his billet near the trebuchet leaving a sad and sorry dashart wondering how he had got into this mess!

(OOC if you don't believe how they made saltpetre - 75% of gunpowder - check out http://www.gsn.uk.com/gunpowder.html )

 

[Lord Durham]

April 1 - Night


De Crecy rifled through the pockets of the dead brigand. Merde! Only a few coppers. He stood up and stretched. To the west the sun had disappeared behind some trees. In those trees were the French, as far as he knew. Light was failing fast.

Edward was conducting repairs to the walls with his reinforcements, while the original garrison gathered around the church tending to wounds and eating a cold meal supplied by the villagers.

De Crecy walked by the Knight. The man looked exhausted. There was a nasty dent in the left arm of his armour, and a thin trail of blood slowly seeped down to his hand. He didn't pay it any attention, and sat still, staring ahead.

Ash and the Danish Giant were slumped against a fountain, calmly passing a water sack back and forth. They were joined by one of the Duncans.

Wee Willie was fuming. He'd lost three men, and several wounded, but no amount of consoling would calm him down. De Crecy shrugged. They had faced great odds, and death happened. Many found it honourable to die in battle. He was sure the huge Scot would see reason before long.

Sergeant Kishlanksky had taken the worst of it. He had lost half his men. As De Crecy stood watching the original defenders, Edward walked past with Cockney.

"'ere Guv. I reckon'd the Frog dead to be abou' 60. Gotta be at least that number injured, if not more."

"And we have maybe 70 capable of fighting. There's no telling if they have reinforcements coming in."

"Shouldn' be a problem', Captn' should 'ave the message 'ere long."

They passed beyond hearing range. De Crecy gave Wallace one last look, then went to find something to eat.