Across a battlefield (Methos and Angel)

[Methos]

Theodoric emerged from his tent in the early morning light. His gaze would trace towards the horizon as in the distance he could spy the rising spires of the city far across the plane where the two armies were currently encamped. He smiled faintly as at least the matter was to be settled on the open plane where knights could meet in honourable combat and feat at arms would triumph. Sieges were ugly and dull things by comparison. One side sought to survive and hope they did so long enough that the invading army would simply go away. While the other sought to surround the city, starve it and knock down its walls with catapults.

His hand rose to slide through long blonde hair, as his green eyes slid through the camp. A yawn escaped his lips as he shifted his head to each side and then stretch his arms out. His form creaked slightly as he roused himself. Battle would be upon them soon enough as the dawn’s light shined upon his king’s encampment and the field beyond it. In both camps people would likely begin to stir with the expectation of the violence that was to follow.

He returned to his tent and soon a razor was taken to his cheeks and his neck, with golden stubble being parted from his features. Thereafter, cold water was splashed across his face and he rummaged about for something to eat. And apple, some leftover bread and cheese from the night before emerged as his breakfast. Cold water was soon a beverage in turn as he gulped it down.

Shortly thereafter, his squire arrived and began to help him buckle and strap his armor into place. Soon the knight would rise and his six foot three inch frame was mass of plated metal. Although with broad shoulders and a muscular form he seemed surprisingly nimble under the weight of his armor. His sword was belted into place and he checked to ensure his spear, his mace and shield were all assembled and thereafter he headed over to his horse.

His mane of golden locks and handsome features would soon disappear under the rather stiflingly hot form of his helmet. He’d clamber up upon the back of his horse and his weaponry was secured. His pennant was raised to scattered cheers. After all his banner was well known for few others had rode to glory in as many battles and tournaments in so short at time as he.

His horse slowly carried his towards the field outside the camp where men began to assemble. The scarlet field with a golden hawk upon it fluttered in the breeze as he road towards them. His own knights and retainers were hurriedly assembling to follow him onto the battlefield as the rest of the camp was slowly finalizing its preparations as well.

 

[Angel]

She was awoken by the blare of a horn. Men who were druken the night before from celebration finding themselves able to sober up quickly/ The morning was early and she found herself up quickly getting ready. Putting a good majority of her armour on. Why you ask? Because she wasn't supposed to be there. The war called for all men to step forth and fight. Each family calling out the youngest male from each family. Her brother however, was deathly ill. Angel refused to let him go, sneaking off in the middle of the night with his armour and mare. A beautiful mare she was. Black thick coat and a rich mane that glimmered in the morning sun.

Before putting on her helmet she made her way over to the makeshift mirror that was in her tent. Quickly she put her hair up, so none would fall notice beneath her helmet. Once she was satisfied, she moved over to the water filled bowl. Splashing her face of the cool, refreshing water to clean away the night's long sleep. Satisfied she put her helmet on, not a hint of her golden hair being seen beneath it.

She stepped outside, looking over the commotion of everyone's preparation. Dozens of men hurrying as the horn continued to blare out. She sighed lightly, unsheathing her sword to take another look at it. The sword was one that her father gave to her. He had taught her everything she knew when it came to fighting. Whether it was hand to hand combat or wordsmanship. He told her no man would take it easy on her unless out of arrogance. So he taught her well. Then again, she was sure he regretted it at this point. No one knew she would take off as she did to go and fight.

The intense thought of her father was interrupted by a close friend of her brother's, that came over to her. "So how long are you going to keep this up?" Angel glared at him beneath her helmet as she made her way over to her horse, fixing her saddle as they spoke. "As long as I have to Setka." His arms flailed, "You know you can die out there!" She unsheathed her sword quickly, bringing the edge of her blade to his throat, her left hand grasping his right to hold him int place. "As can you. I don't see you cowaring away." He offered a glare before Angel let go and slipped her blade back into its sheath.

Everyone was ready and the horn blared once more. Angel mounted her beautiful black mare and made her way into the front line with all the other riders. And so the march began over the hills. Tall green and gold flags waving in the air viciously from both movement and wind, The march was rythmic, even with many horses, everyone seemed to be in sync with the other... and so the battle begun.

 

[Methos]

Theodoric assembled his men and those whom had taken the field before him raised a cheer at his arrival. He raised his lance upwards in a salute as his visor slide down. The gilded forms of hawks were visible upon the side of his helmet and upon the red tabard he wore over his armor. His shield was worked with that symbol as well. Within his helm he smiled, for whatever reason it amused him that his very presence had now become good for an army’s moral.

One had but to win a series of tournaments and then prove successful in a series of military campaigns and bards were willing to elevate you to immortal status. Now Theodoric was proud enough to gauge his talents and exceptional. As far as knights went he was first rate. Yet those blasted singers had began to embellish the stories about him to the point where he found he had strangers coming up to him and asking him about the time he slew a dragon, or single handedly held off an army of dwarves! He’d never even seen a dragon let along killed one, and he’d never seen more than two dwarves in any one place let alone an army of them. However, protesting that he didn’t know what the devil they were talking about never went over well. Thus if some insane deed was claimed to have been accomplished by him he’d found it better just to offer some vague commentary, crediting the divine, his horse and his sword for his survival.

However, if the green soldiers in the army were going to stiffen their spine before his supposed deeds preceded him – all the better. Here on the battlefield he actually did know a thing or two, and defeating other men in combat was something he excelled at. Thus as men milled about he took his place in the line with the heavy cavalry and awaited his opportunity to make his mark upon the battle.

The infantry and cavalry had all formed up and the slow progress forward along eh plain before them was made. The sound of thousands of boots and hooves could be heard tramping on the ground. While great drums behind them were being beaten and horns sounding to keep the time. The horns sounded the advance. It was early in the day and his horse casually moved forward. Now they were waiting as much as anything else for the other army to appear on the plain that seemed it would be there battlefield.

The army had arranged itself in a rather standard fashion. The cavalry had formed up on the flanks of the army. The infantry was at the centre with archers, crossbowmen and the engine set up behind them. The archers were of course ready to nimbly dark forward and take up an advance position before falling back. The catapults and ballistae were positioned and their crews were adjusting them to try and set a range. The table was set for all hell to break loose.

 

[Angel]

After a good supposed half an hour passed, their army could be seen coming over the distant hills. Drums booming behind them with horns alerting the other army and our own of their presence. They halted at the sight of them. Both armies a good half a mile away from the other. Silence rang over them, the horses steady as they looked over the plain. Angel looked up at their captain who was on horseback beside her. "Are you not going to ride out and go and speak with them first, sir?" She lowered her voice, speaking huskily to hide her feminine one.

The captain looked down at her as to question the puberty of the "boy", but dismissed it with the current situation. "Not this time, lad." A sudden fear came over her. Gallons of crimson liquid would soon cover this beautiful plain. She didn't fear for her life, but for her friends... family's friends. People here she knew all her life... all might come to a halt for this silly thing called war.

Both were waiting for a signal, as if everyone was holding off the inevitable. Angel turned to her captain once more, grasping the hilt of her sword. "May I, sir?" It was an obvious hint, she wanted to signal the start of the battle. The captain looked down at her in question, but he heard his loyal men behind him beginning to chant and exclaim excitement, some banging their spears against the ground while others stomped the mud beneath them near solid.

The captain smiled, hearing the support of his men behind him. He looked down at Angel giving her a stern and single nod. With his approval, she looked to her side at Setka, and he as well gave her a similar nod, but one more of comfort. With the approval of her Captain and Steka right beside her, she unsheathed her sword with a loud ring, holding it straight up so the morning sun would catch the light on her blade to signal the other army.

With the sword in the air, the vast army behind her roared and began their descent down the hill side running past the horsemen as they stayed still, waiting for the first rush of the crowd to pass them. Angel's sword was still raised, as if to hold off the second wave. She knew what to do from the stories of her brother and father. Her father was an old commander and he had actually done this before. To alert a battle was an honor... and she got to feel the pride her father described all these years. Just as the thought almost left her mind, Captain turned to her. "Your father would have been proud."

She smiled wide, she felt a sense of accomplishment like nothing ever before, and yet her and her horse were still standing on top of that hill just as the first wave was done passing them. They waited a few more moments for the troops to be a safe distance... then her sword pointed forward with a loud battle cry. Captain, Setka, Angel, and all the rest of the horsemen took off with the galloping hooves of their mares fiercely stomping the plain with the rush of the rest of the troops behind them.