The Gathering 1098

Monday 31st August 1098

Dragging ourselves out of bed we assembled outside the command tent, chatting and joking as we waited for the battle muster. A little bit of excitement was experienced when we realised that George had absent-mindedly wandered off down to the market place without any bodyguards, but I quickly grabbed a couple of people and we jogged down there, found him and dragged him back to the camp.

A while later the camp muster was called, to the strains of me shouting "Muster! Get out of bed, you lazy bastards", when Reynauld asked me to get everyone assembled when his shouting didn't do the trick. Reynauld seemed somewhat put out by my phrasing, and wandered off shaking his head. It worked though, politeness is wasted on some people.

At the muster some more recognition was handed out. George was made a Knight of the Order of Eaton. Jac was confirmed in the position of Sheriff (he won't be around much longer then), The Beastmen, Slobber and Bimble?!?! Were all made "Chosen Men of Albion" (even the women), despite Bimble making an arse of himself the entire time.

A couple of the Bacchus women, Xantalia and Ehlana, were made Defenders of Albion (like George already is), and a number of other people were promoted, recognised or otherwise rewarded.

George then produced the Bacchanalian Wine we had brewed the morning before. Those that were taking it had to do so early, as it had the unfortunate side-effect of knocking the people drinking it out for an hour before they gained the protective benefits.

Drinkers of the potion were all the usual people plus a couple of others: Tarn, Hugo, Jac, I'seeyou, Young John, Jasper all got some, as did Leri, Benedict and Calin. As they slumped to the floor we carried them into the command tent and placed them in the chairs in humorous positions.

With them out of the way the muster continued apace. Eventually it finished, and we just sat around, waiting until the call came for us to march to the battlefield.

The Wait

When it did come, we wound our slow, steady path towards the field of honour, the Bacchus giving a rendition of some of our best songs, including two new songs from Rincewind "We are the Bacchus Bastards" and the famous "Isn't Long Song" (whose words go "Some Songs are very very long. This one Isn't") plus everyones' favourite, the "Song That Will Get On Your Nerves".

Just as it looked like everyone was going to kill us we got onto the battlefield. Things didn't change much then, as it still looked like everyone was going to kill us, only this time it was the enemy, not our allies.

The battleplan on our side was a strange one. The Harts were spread out in a thin line along most of the length of the battlefield, the Bacchus being on the left flank between the Hunters and the Middledark. Behind us the troops of the other factions had formed into columns. Apparently we were to attack , in an attempt to break up the opposing line, and them the other factions behind us would take advantage of the confusion to crush the opposition.

On the other side of the field the armies appeared to have a standard battle formation, but with the Dragons "hidden" behind an out-thrust section of forest. Their plan appeared to be to make contact along the length of our line, and then charge the column from around the trees into our left flank.

In between our two armies the mages and alchemists guild observers seemed to be setting up a picnic, and didn't seem too perturbed when we warned them that they were right in the charge path.

The Battle begins

After some taunting the enemy suddenly charged. We braced ourselves for impact, seeing the column of the Dragons sweep around on the left. The Vipers started moving up behind us, ready to Reinforce when the Dragons hit. Abruptly the section of line directly opposite ours halted about 15 foot away from our lines. This was rather confusing at first, but things become more clear when a large explosion was seem to happen further down the line, near the Hunters. I looked around, confused as to it cause, when an unarmed man (or boy rather, he wasn't a day over 15) charged towards me. Unwilling to strike what appeared to be a harmless and unarmed madman I just watched as he came within sword range. Abruptly he exploded, erupting into a fountain of light that swept across us. The wave smashed me to the floor, knocking me unconscious. A few minutes later I came to, with a healer bending over me, desperately trying to parry blows from the enemy whilst healing my wounds.

I got to my feet, taking a couple of blows on my miraculously unharmed armour. I retreated with the now withdrawing line, but not before calling upon Bacchus to heal Peregrine and Jal'al, were struck down during the retreat.

Things then became very confused. I wandered along the battlefield, attempting to spot the Harts or any of our allies. Obviously, with the Harts being spread out over the front of the line, we were more broken up, and thus harder to identify. As no-one was attacking me I took the opportunity to repair some of the damage to my armour.

Eventually I reached the far end of the battle line, after a few confrontations. Spotting the main body of the Harts (and the Incantors guild unit), I started towards that area. Unfortunately, the battle then started to swing around, cutting me off from the Harts. I found myself facing members of what I believe to be the Bears. I recognised a fellow member of the guild, who grinned as he faced me. A swift blow to his head and he ducked back.

The Heat of Battle

A strange gentleman in white, wearing a mask and wielding a hammer then faced me. He was immune to the blows of my sword so I retreated, taking several blows in the process. Eventually he got bored of chasing me, and halted me, before striking me with his hammer on the chest. As I fell backwards into the arms of a healer I saw Tarn and Calin lay into the bugger with their enchanted weapons. As they did so the person vanished, leaving them confused.

I felt the tingle off healing magic flow into me, and I recovered enough to stand again. spending a short time to repair my armour I again wandered in search of the Harts. The sifting flow of battle made it difficult to identify their location, and I ended up facing another group of enemies. Struck down by magic I was just getting to my feet when the annoying bloke with the mask attacked me again, obviously taking pride in the fact that he could beat me up without my being able to strike an effective blow in return. Falling to the floor I again lay there for a short while.

Healing again came my way, and when I got to my feet I finally spotted a path to the Harts main group.Rejoining with the member of my group that had likewise made it back I enquired as to the state of the battle. In the chaos it was hard to tell, but we appeared to be in the worse position. Apparently the Vipers were doing well against the Dragons elsewhere however, so things could yet recover.

I was at the edge of the group when the line of the Lions bulged outwards and started to move into out rear. Standing out between our two line I struck at one fellow, hitting him several times upon the arm. He looked shocked, and then fell back. I found myself facing no less than five people, armed with shields, swords and two polearms. Despite their numerical and armament advantages they seemed unwilling to attack, and failed almost entirely to strike any effective blows.

As I faced them down I hear a cry to my right, and, swinging around, saw the burly figure of Ormardu the ogre bearing down on me. Quick reactions allowed me to leap backwards, saving my shield from his crushing blow (but almost trampling a hapless Viper who had somehow fallen behind me). As I desperately tried not to stumble over the fallen Viper the fighting mysteriously died down.

The news gradually propagated through the rank and file, the Dragons and the Vipers had called a truce, after their two leaders (Lord Ash and King Gustav) reached a draw in single combat.

The Aftermath

Making our peace with the Lions we withdrew from the field, now that the result was decided we had no further place there. The Bacchus broke into song again as we strode back across the marketplace to our camp.

Back at the camp we were congratulated on our prowess, and had several other events of the battle explained to us. Apparently the reason why the Bears were so active at the right flank was that the Orcadian Wolves had decided to let the Bears through their lines, allowing them to attack the Tarantulas and the rear of the Wolves and Harts. This, combined with the exploding people on the left flank, had left us in a very unstable position from the first two minutes of the battle.

The exploding people were universally reviled. The fact that people were dying to win what was essentially an honour battle was seen to strike at the very heart of the ideals the Gathering treaty was set to uphold. If people are going to die in the honour battle then we may as well just fight without the Ritual of Peace and take the losses. Thinking back on the battle it was concluded that the Cult of Mithras (Durith's old group) were responsible for the ritual that caused the effect. Lastly we had to go and get Hugo back from the Bears, as they had managed to capture him (despite him being mostly invulnerable).

After a cooling off period it was time to pack up and leave. The speed of events that had occurred during the Gathering had left me feeling exhausted physically and emotionally, emotions numbed by the things I had witnessed. Eventually all the Bacchus equipment had been carried off to the Ritual Circle, and without further ado George called upon Bacchus and we returned to Londinium.

May Bacchus and their own Ancestors welcome into their arms:

Elias Karlennon
Sigon De'Barrel
Marcellus.
s'Ting of the Beastmen
And all those who died for Albion and the Ancestors.