The Battle for the North

"HAHAHAHAHAHA! Run them down like the dogs they are! Charge!"

Beornheard howled with bloodthirsty glee as he went into the fray, battle-axe (d8) raised above his head. He hacked and pushed and shoved at the Deiran shieldwall, his axe biting mail or flesh whenever it found a gap in their defenses. Like a man possessed, the tall warrior fought with all his strength to push through and break the shieldwall. Only the true warriors would remain on the battlefield, those who could pose any sort of challenge for him.

"Come on! Is that the best you got?!"

(Beornheard uses his axe (d8) to Strike (d8) at the Deiran shieldwall in order to break it. I'll also invoke my aspect Half-giant (d8) to summon extra strength to break the enemy's defense)

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"Cruthadair crò! Hold the line! To the banner of the King!"

While the Deiran warriors rushed forward to keep back the invigorated foe, Ciaran took a step back to keep himself clear of the fighting. Not much an archer could do if the enemy was close enough to cut him, after all. He took a moment to survey the lines, looking for the most important looking Bernician he could find. Their King would surely be close, lest he was a coward. Cut off the snake's head and the body crumbles. He drew another arrow and loaded his bow.

"Rìgh nan Dùl, guide my hand and let this shot ring true. Amen."

(I'll use Sense (d6) to find the Bernician King (if necessary), and then use Aim (d10) and my bow (d6) and quiver (d9 due to spent an arrow) to fire at him)

Æþelfriþ drops down from his horse and makes his way through his warband to the front; the stunning face of his masked helmet appears at fore of the Beornician force, just in time for a certain bowman to…



Ciaran:
Sense here automatically succeeds because Æþelfriþ and his helmet are easy to spot; Ciaran rolls a 5 for Aim and a 1 for his Bow.

Æþelfriþ:
He has a d8 for Fend, and can roll his Grimhelm d8. I will use the free parry invocation that comes from his Beornscyld d10.

As I intend to invoke the aspect below, I'll first endure my aspect *Dōmwealdere* as a penalty since it seems fair; this removes the Grimhelm d8 as it is equal with the aspect which is a d8. This gives me a new point of Ardor.

He rolls 6 for Fend and 10 for his shield, deflecting the shot.

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An arrow comes down from above, slamming into the cyning's bear-marked shield. Æþelfriþ roars, drawing his scramaseax and waving it above his head to draw attention to him and his conspicuous headgear.

"Come, take the hill if you can! I am Æþelfriþ, sunsunu of Ida, and I am your true cyning!"

Æþelfriþ invokes his endured aspect from above, *Dōmwealdere*, using that point of Ardor. This gives Æþelfriþ a d8 in the coming battle phase.

"AAAGH! Come on you whelps! By God's Wounds, I'll slaughter you all! For Æþelfriþ!"

He was exposed, he knew that well enough. Deirans were closing in around Beornheard fast, trying to close the gap that he had created. With ax and shield he fought like a wounded animal to keep them back, just for long enough for his fellow bannermen to come to his aid. He buried his own fears deep, laughing it off as another Deiran warrior slumped to the ground, blood gushing out of his mangled neck.

"HAHAHAHAHAHAHA! Is there no true warrior among you Deiran dogs to challenge Beornheard, son of Beornwulf and blood of Eoppa?"

"Oh? You're approaching me?"

Beornheard raised his axe and pointed it at the well-dressed Deiran warrior. He smiled - here came an opponent that would bring glory upon his name.

"State your name Deiran, so that I will remember the foe that I slay on today. AAAH!"

With a rush, Beornheard charged forward against Ethelric, shield held up like a battering ram.