The Battle at the Crossing of Cale

[Otton]

Otton allowed his unnamed mare to dictate where he moved. He kept his eyes up but his head down, and tried to stay as far out of the battle as he could. He gripped the lance tight, then loosened. Tight, then loosened. It was a good thing to take his mind off those coming toward him. He raised the lance and thought, "Great, here comes death."

[Dante]

Dante fought through a torrent of helacious blows. He was faced with a small man with a spaer he couldn't seem to hit. The man seemed more preoccupied with tiring the privateer out, rather than killing him. He would only barely penetrate the bigger man's skin, never fatal. Dante kicked at the man's shins, but the man danced out of the way. The spear came toward the right part of the blue-haired man's midsection.

Dante shifted away from the blow, but caught the blow. He slid in now, and truly kicked thje man in the shin. He brought his left axe in, bringing it with massive momentum. It broke through the light armor easily, and Dante's hand was dark with blood as he pushed the man to the side. He hear a thunderous bellow, and swiveled his head to see a large man barreling through the men on the bridge. He saw the archer from before, frozen in fear. Dante would be surprised to find himself any different in that path.

Dante was shocked to feel his feet moving toward the larger man. He slid his left hand into his belt, but kept the right one out. He skidded out of the way of a hurled javelin, but kept his acceleration coming. The man swung his axe to his right, away from Dante, and Dante crashed into him. The man was alw=most thrown over the bridge, but lost all of his wind. Dante fell back a bit, relieved to see a few swordsmen quickly finish the maniac from before. He turned to look at the archer, debt paid. At least, that's how Dante justified it.

[Nathaniel]

Nathaniel spoke an incantation. He said, "Labasco sibimet pluit!"[/font][/font] He made two fingers into a v on his right hand, and swiped it past an open palm on his left. He'd been the most powerful when he used Lightning spells, so that was majorly what he used in this battle. He was accustomed to battle, and was handling his situation more calmly than the other magi. He was also on the front lines, dodging blows with the rest of the warriors. Because that's what he was. A warrior whose mind was his weapon.[/font]

A group of Ostians rushing toward him suddenly heard the crack of thunder. That was the only part Nathaniel had trouble with in his conjuring of elements, it was backwards. The thunder came... And then a hole ripped in the sky above the men's head Lightning jutting out of the fissure and tearing into the men. Nathaniel gritted his teeth as only one of them fell. He held out his right hand,"Ire prolatio!" He sent a ball of blue electricity straight at one of the men now coming straight towards him. The man fell. Only one left, but he was close.[/font]

Nathaniel held out his right hand, "Latro mei palma!" A bolt of [/font]Lightning held itself above his palm, and Nathaniel made a fist as if he were holding it. He dodged a strike from the man, then slammed the bolt into the soldiers face. The heat and shock is too much for a man to bear, and Nathaniel averted his gaze as best he could. The man fell, and the Monk had to look to other foes.

 

[Marr Survant]

Marr watched as a burly man rammed into the maniac. The maniac nearly toppled, then a group of swordsman cut him to ribbons as they passed, which was convenient. Marr turned and shot a soldier with an axe through the stomach, using the arrow he'd already notched. The Pheraen alliance had fallen back, and now Marr was near the front. He backed up slowly notching another arrow.

He lifted his bow so that he was aiming at the clouds he let it loose, hoping it could kill someone he wasn't supposed to protect. Where in the hell was the Pheraen Cavalry?

[Otton]

The Pheraen cavalry was actually holding out very well. Otton was sweating like a dog, but those around him seemed to be completely fine. He believed the Ostians had already taken more losses than they had. They were still however, hopelessly outnumbered. Yet, the Ostians kept giving them ground. They kept falling back twenty yards then fighting for a few minutes, then another horn would blow and they'd retreat. Otton didn't have the adrenaline of his comrades, he felt that something was amiss. A larger force retreating from a smaller one just didn't seem right.

Another horn blew. Otton turned his head to the back of his unit. There in the sky, flew a brigade of Pegasus Knights. They flew banners as white as ice. They descended on the back of his unit like hell fire, and swept over it towards the front.One of their lances flew past his head, as the woman carrying it passed by him. Well, at least he was in the middle. As the flyers flew back into the sky near his units rear, the men at the back tightened their defenses. He turned the unnamed horse around to face them. He'd hear if the Ostians reached him.

[Dante]

Dante ran towards the archer from before. He grabbed him on the shoulder, and turned him so the two were facing each other. "Come on." He was beginning to form an insane idea in his head. He was unsure why he'd picked an archer of all people, but this man was the only man on his side he'd had some interaction with. So he led the man off of the bridge then turned again, "Before you say anything, I'm Dante Damion, heir to the seat of Badon. I have an idea, we should ford the river."