https://preview.redd.it/o0bygi3c051d1.png?width=1299&format=png&auto=webp&s=f86c1a5f0faee68b7b957aae561b261c134b9ab9 350 vs 800 guys and get 100 kills alone :D submitted by /u/Kindly-Assistance-80 [link] [comments]
The sun was slipping beneath the horizon, and the great hulk rocked gently in the waves.
Soft groans of wounded and dying men, the creaking of wood, and the salt spray of the sea breaking against the hull kept the silence at bay. The light of the dusk caught the dimmed faces of women and children, huddled all around.
A despondent youth lay quiet against the railing of the deck, looking back at the shoreline, a pillar of smoke and the glow of fire rose from the fallen city. The he hobbled heavily across the deck, the youth did not notice the old sergeant come sit by him until he felt the calloused hands on his shoulder, and a flask appear before his face.
You're looking the wrong way, son, the sergeant said is a soft, weary voice. What do you think you can see back there? The youth pained to speak loud enough to answer; 200 of years of pride, up in smoke, and all our honour with it.
Pride and honour, thats all well and good, eh? the elder said, See what goods its done there?. He turned their view from stern to bow, and their eyes met a less fearful fire burning in the west. Pride and honour, victory and glory, ignominy and defeat. Dead kings, squabbling lords, ugly banners. Ah, its all one. The great doom came upon us, the black day. But for all that, water still tastes good, the sun still gives warmth. The night will give us peace, the stars will show us the way, and the dawn will give us day. Is that not enough for you? Have you the right to ask for more? the old man teased. Here, He turned and grabbed a wrapped scabbard, laying it across the lap of the young man. Take this. You'll be needing it when we get back to the old country. The young man despaired - a sword? The old man shot back, Or a ploughshare, but its up to you.
On shore, Boyars stood on the western walls, watching the last Swadian ships flee. Another joined them holding parchment. The Rock has fallen, again. Your sortie had the garrison cut to ribbons. None made it back to defend the city, except for its Lord and the men that carried him there. The old man is dead from his wounds. They had the good grace to get his body out before the longships arrived. The Nords hold the Northern coast and the heartlands are exposed. The messenger paused, then continued - You'll be receiving summons from Reyvadin. Nervous glaces cut across the group. Which of us? one Boyar asked. All of you. he replied. A cold silence fell over the group.
The eldest Boyar broke the pursuing silence. Life is full of contradictions, friends. We have finished what we started and found us right back where we began. We have won and lost, lived and died between dawn and dusk. He turned to the messenger, Send a rider to Dhirim, fortify the garrisons. The Khergits will come back with redoubled strength. Send a rider to whatever is left of the Sultanate and inquire into his condition. Send riders to whatever is left of our expeditionary forces and tell them to pull back to our territory. Then, send a rider to Jelkala, or Shariz, or wherever the Rhodok King is. Entreat him to speak with us.
Another Boyar spoke out at the notion. Peace? With the Rhodoks? You have likely lost your neck already, do you wish to sell your soul next?
Peaceful sloth, not peace. We are short on friends, and the road ahead is long. A moment's respite will do us good. The old man will want to be laid to rest under the Rock, so its back North for us after Reyvadin. If I have any advice to you, friends - retire abroad, if you live that long.
A sudden loosing of bows, sudden gasps and heavy thumps emerged from beneath the walls. Archers had been stringing up whatever Counts and Dukes they could pull from the smouldering ruins of the last Swadian holdouts on the continent. The Boyar wondered if the last one was still alive, or if they did it out of habit, ceremony, vengeance, practice, or just for fun. Another cried, Long live - but the marksmen would have none of it and cut him short. Women howled in grief and panic as their husbands and sons were pulled from their homes, and men were cut down where they stood for standing between their daughters and the soldiers. The old Boyar's mind wandered back to Suno and Uxkhal, to Veluca and Dhirim. The same scenes blended together until he could not tell one memory from another, and he could see Shariz and Barriyye burning in his mind's eye.
He folded his arms over the rear parapets as twilight crept in from the east. The others joined him, faces illuminated in the light of fires burning across the city. He gave one last back to the West, but found the sun had slipped beneath the horizon when his back was turned, and dusk's rose-red fingers sank beneath a wine-dark sea. Pink fell to red, to purple, to the cold blue of night. He turned his eyes to the sky but found no stars, the thick black smoke had choked the light from the sky. White powder fell from the sky, and for a moment he thought back to home. But the snows of the forests did not sting with heat, and the ash he wiped from his cheek ended his reminiscence as soon as it started.
Calradia, dear Calradia. She endures everything, one sighed, But for how much longer?
Forever, I think.
Well folks, this is it for now.
Its been a hell of a time, these past years - how else could you say it? And I would go grey, or more so than I already am, if I tried to recall by name everyone in need of thanking. This old diamond in the rough we call Warband gave a lot of people the chance to do something exceptional, and in that long wait for the sequel that would have left a lesser community gathering cobwebs we did something extraordinary. Now we have a wait of our own ahead of us - we'll keep doing casual events in the interim, but this is the end of this story. Until Bannerlord is ready for us, this is goodbye for now.
A heartfelt thanks to -
Our scene makers, that have made every event unique,
Our Kings, Lords, and all the rest that made up the panoply of character in the community,
Our Patrons, who kept it all running,
Our council, who put it all together,
Our moderation staff, who have seen some shit,
Everyone that turns up for events and parses these endless posts,
and above all, Taleworlds, for the chance to do any of this in the first place, and a chance to do it all again!
The Scoreboard
The Final Map
It is our convention to consider each town to be worth two castles, so here are the final tallies.
In a distant first, after years of steady progress and few setbacks, The Kingdom of the Vaegirs with, 8 towns and 19 castles, for a total of 35
Defending their homeland impeccably and running away with a last minute push to second we have The Khergit Khanate, with 5 towns and 9 castles, for a total of 19
In third, living up to their name and owning the entire northern coast, we have The Kingdom of the Nords with 4 towns and 8 castles for a total of 16
Following close behind in fourth, and finally completing the crusade they set out from the start, we have The Kingdom of the Rhodoks, with 3 towns and 9 castles for a total of 15
In fifth, with a severe lats minute contraction, we have The Sarranid Sultanate, with 2 towns and 3 castles for a total of 7
And last but not least, gone from this earth but not from our hearts, The Kingdom of Swadia has kicked the bucket and joined the choir invisible.
By the by, give our discord a gander - we'll be converting the server to get ready for Bannerlord soon, with new roles and channels. We will announce the details prior to March 31st. Hang around for the latest Bannerlord news and discussion!
Submitted March 09, 2020 at 12:32AM by Mephistopholees https://ift.tt/3aFiU89
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