No announcement yet.

Tales of the Storm: The Charioteer of Arashi

  • Filter
  • Time
  • Show
Clear All
new posts

  • Tales of the Storm: The Charioteer of Arashi

    Rumors of war decended from the Spinebreaker, as did wave after wave of Immortals in their blood red uniforms. Scouts brought in news of raiders carrying a black standard landing on the Western shore. The garrison at Arashi stood ready.

    "Our Nation's fate rests in your hands today" the General almost whispered, his troops hardly taking notice. Each man knew his duty, and each knew their commander had no place on the frontier.

    No one understood this better than the General's Charioteer, who had been granted the post as a favor to his late father. A father who had voluntarily taken a most dangerous post so his son could have the safest. "The only battle I'll see is the General's aide de camp trying to fit him into his uniform" was the thought of the son today. Tears of frustration welled in his eyes as he watched the army headed out into the field without him.

    The main body of troops faced North to meet the Immortals. A small group branching off to meet the new seaborne threat to the West. The General watched impatiently from a vantage point on a hill near Arashi, constantly inquiring as to when brunch should be ready.

    In the West the battle started well, many raiders being caught by suprise as to the force mustered against them. The black standard fell, as did those who followed it.

    To the North things were looking bleak though. It was a clouded morning, having rained the night before. Muddy fields slowed the Chariots, and there was no infantry support.

    "Tis magnificent!" exclaimed the General, savouring a pastry that had captured his attention. "A brilliant tactic to send the icing to flank the jelly that way good Chef! I taste a decoration in this for you." and with a wink the General stepped up onto the Chariot to recon what else the kitchen might have in store to assault his gullet with.

    The other occupant of the Chariot had much different concerns. A rage unlike anything he had ever felt was welling up inside. Below were those who had killed his father, those who would destroy his country. Below the second line had broke on a wall of Immortals, and Chariots were fleeing in disarray. His whip cracked and the horses lunged forward as he let loose a terrible cry.

    With the unexpected start, the General lost his grasp on his plate. He saw the life giving (and delicious) sustenance fall onto the grass. His cry of outrage mingled with the Charioteer's. Like thunder it echoed through the valley. Everyone, both Chariot and Immortal, paused at the roar it was so dreadful. In the same moment, a break in the clouds cast a ray of light onto the decending Chariot, and gleamed on the balding head of the General. As a golden crown it radiated and a shout went up from the Chariots below, thinking Stormbringer himself had decended the clouds to do battle!

    The madness of the General knew no bounds as he mercilessly pummelled his chauffeur. The madness of the Charioteer was equal to the task as he disregarded his passenger's blows and continued on. What troops were left formed up as the Chariot passed, but none could match the speed and the furry with which it flew.

    The Immortals had broken rank to pursue the fleeing Chariots. Precision had turned to bloodlust in giving chase, and now turned into disarray. A thousand hands reached to grasp this new target racing through them, to capture this Chariot that charged when all others fled. The flank of the Immortals became their front, their chase a retreat, even though they still were pursuing their target.

    The main body of Chariots fell upon now distracted targets with a frenzy to match that of their leader. What had been a rout became another.

    A few days later, the General was summoned back to the heartland, where all spoke his name 'Ramses' with awe. A great post awaits the people's hero. At the garrison of Arashi they know better though, the hero is the Charioteer. The one willing to take the greatest risk, just like his father. Only now, it's Grog on Wheels...
    "tout comprendre, c'est tout pardonner"

  • #2
    Stormbringer looked out at the tiny flickering lights in the mountains and pulled his cloak closer to shield him from the chill night air. From atop the Great Lighthouse you could see for miles, and it was said from the heights of this second wonder of the world a man could not only survey the whole vast expanse of the oceans, but also reach out and hold them in his grasp. Stormbringer frankly doubted if that was actually true, and was still troubled by the fact that the lower parts of the Lighthouse's stonework had a distinctly 'slanted sandstone' look about them. Nevertheless, the people believed it to be true and that was half the battle. The easy half.

    It was also freezing cold on top of the Lighthouse because you were exposed to the raging coastal winds, which had been howling into Stormbringer's face all night as he had stood there. The campfires of the Voxian armies far in the distance had been getting closer every day and Stormian scouts reported that the enemy were receiving regular reinforcements.

    Stormbringer sighed. He hadn't wanted this war, but now that it had been thrust upon him he knew how to act. The defences to the north had been marshalled, they were brave men and well trained, but he would have felt more comfortable if they had been more numerous. Nevertheless, he knew his men were brave and strong, the defences of the city would be held - he knew it in his heart. They must be held.

    He heard the footsteps of a messenger on the stairs behind him and turned to meet the new arrival.

    "What news of the war?" said Strombringer

    "The Senate have instructed me to request to you that you travel to the battlefields with all possible speed. Our armies have engaged in heavy fighting with the Voxians and your presence is needed to rally the troops."

    Strombringer considered this and looked out from the Lighthouse once again. Oh, why could he not be in more than one place at a time! At times like this a nation needs more than one leader to marshal the troops and defend the people, but he was just one man!

    "How bad were our casualties?" he said.

    "No worse than we could have expected, Consul, although we have no precise figures as yet. Our wounded soldiers have been steadily returning to their cities and they report that many Voxians have been left slain on the field of battle. A large army of Immortals still remain entrenched on the Spinebreaker Mountains, though, and our Generals are wary of venturing into such terrain - it was not made for chariots."

    "Truly, but that army was not our chief concern. The threat they pose to our cities can not be ignored, but we must not be downhearted. First we should dispose of those enemies that have come down from the mountains - their eagerness proves their bravery, but on the plains and deserts it is we who have the advantage."

    "Before you go, Consul, the Senate also instructed me to give you this message. They told me it was for your eyes only." The messenger bowed and extended his arm to present the wax-sealed envelope.

    Stormbringer took it and tore open the seal. A deeply thoughtful look spread across his face as he read the contents, and when he was finished he folder the letter up and put it safely away. This news would have to be carefully considered.

    "Messenger, tell the Senate that I have noted their request and that I will ready myself to depart immediately. I have done all I can for the defences in this area and there are more immediate matters of concern elsewhere."

    "At once, Consul."

    Stormbringer turned to leave, but something made him stop before he reached the door.

    "Did you feel that, messenger?"


    "I think the wind just changed direction....."
    If I'm posting here then Counterglow must be down.


    • #3
      Fantastic tales!

      edit: missed the plural.
      Last edited by Hot Mustard; April 27, 2003, 12:33.


      • #4
        Both are most excellent indeed, great guys
        Is God willing to prevent evil, but not able? Then he is not omnipotent. Is he able, but not willing? Then he is malevolent. Is he both able and willing? Then whence cometh evil? Is he neither able nor willing?
        Then why call him God? - Epicurus


        • #5
          Makes me proud to be GS.
          The greatest delight for man is to inflict defeat on his enemies, to drive them before him, to see those dear to them with their faces bathed in tears, to bestride their horses, to crush in his arms their daughters and wives.

          Duas uncias in puncta mortalis est.


          • #6
            OK people....

            Which of these statements applies to you:

            1) I haven't read these stories. They're too long and I don't really care.

            2) I read them and think they are silly/boring so I couldn't be bothered to post.

            3) I read them and enjoyed them, but didn't feel like posting.

            4) Give me a f**king chance FP, I've only just noticed this thread!

            If you guys either aren't interested in this stuff, or you don't like it, then it would be useful for us to know. That way we can simply not bother doing it in future.

            Come on, post your comments on this stuff. At the very least you'll get [+1] for it.
            If I'm posting here then Counterglow must be down.


            • #7

              My experience in writting here on Apolyton is that you will NOT recieve many posts in reference to what you write. This held true with the Gazette, for the most part, and is holding true to the stories I am writting.

              Bottom line, did YOU enjoy writting it/them? Who cares what anyone else thinks? Chances are, these are what will be best remembered at the end of the game anyway, a creative outpouring based UPON the game, what could be better?

              Perhaps we need a way of organizing them all, though...

              but that is just me.

              Now, to go and read the stories...(and recieve my +1)
              One who has a surplus of the unorthodox shall attain surpassing victories. - Sun Pin
              You're wierd. - Krill

              An UnOrthOdOx Hobby


              • #8
                5) I read them, and posted my approval.

                Personally, I have to be in the mood to read such things, as they take more time and concentration. When I'm in the mood, I read them right away. Otherwise I leave them alone until I'm ready. I always appreciate them, and when I feel there's something very good or special about them, I post some sort of .


                • #9
                  I love the stories but don't have much talent for it myself. At least tell me my son, the Elite Mad King Donegeal horseman unit, (one of the two we landed and were going to load back up) fought bravely...
                  Founder of The Glory of War, CHAMPIONS OF APOLYTON!!!
                  1992-Perot :(, 1996-Perot :(, 2000-Bush :), 2004-Bush :|, 2008-Obama :|, 2012-Obama :), 2016-Clinton :(


                  • #10
                    I liked both stories. They would've been better if Milla Jovovich had been in them.

                    Actually they were both quite good. I send my thanks to both writer's for sharing them with me.


                    • #11

                      The elite MKD horsemen fought as best they could, but their backs were against the sea, and their fronts were against a unit of GS swordsmen. Not a good place to be. Not good odds.

                      grog want tank...Grog Want Tank... GROG WANT TANK!

                      The trick isn't to break some eggs to make an omelette, it's convincing the eggs to break themselves in order to aspire to omelettehood.


                      • #12
                        Actually, it was war chariots that did them in. And our units definitely knew they'd been in a fight! The bravery of GoW horsemen is not in doubt.

                        On the other hand, part of the agreement by which Gathering Storm agreed not to object to Glory of War galleys off our coast was that any Glory of War units that landed would die. Unless that information was withheld from the Mad King, his landing so close to the front lines would certainly seem to be proof of his madness. And with Vox pressing us so hard, we couldn't afford to spare the pikemen we would have needed to make sure the horsemen could not take a city if they were inclined to do so, even aside from the weakness it would show if we promised death for any Glory of War units landing in our territory and failed to back up that promise with action.


                        • #13
                          Oh, my bad, I guess I was thinking of my original battle plan that was... erm... modified.

                          But if memory serves, those elite MKD horsies had to deal with rocks falling from the sky too, didn't they?

                          grog want tank...Grog Want Tank... GROG WANT TANK!

                          The trick isn't to break some eggs to make an omelette, it's convincing the eggs to break themselves in order to aspire to omelettehood.


                          • #14
                            I hadn't really intended to make that part public, but yes, we were concerned enough about Mad King Donegeal's mighty forces that we used catapults to soften them up a little before the war chariots attacked.


                            • #15

                              I didn't mean to give away State secrets, of course.

                              Ah, that's the trouble with governing a republic isn't it, nathan? The people can go and say all sorts of things.

                              Not like the poor, oppressed people of Vox Controli. They must speak with one voice, or be silenced.

                              I look forward to liberating them.

                              grog want tank...Grog Want Tank... GROG WANT TANK!

                              The trick isn't to break some eggs to make an omelette, it's convincing the eggs to break themselves in order to aspire to omelettehood.