Chance And Steel (Open Warfare RP)

OOC: Anyone can join this RP, at any time. This is an open conflict between the three alliances of TESO. For more information, please refer to our planning thread. Have fun, see you on the battlefield!



It is the year 2E 582. War has erupted amongst Tamriel’s heartland province of Cyrodiil. Three armies have amassed between the cities of Bruma, Cheydinhal and Chorrol, where battles rage for their control. For there to be a hope of victory, the three alliances of the Daggerfall Covenant, Aldmeri Dominion and Ebonheart Pact have called for reinforcements and these forces have crossed paths in a level field, in the dark of night. Each army moves in formation, with the heaviest soldiers at the front and archers at the back. Some are more tired than others as there has been little time to rest between battles in the last few days. Scars have begun to form, and their weapons are growing blunt from wearisome skirmishes with the imperials and each other.

However, on this day, the three warring factions are surprisingly high in morale and are particularly looking forward to demonstrating to the others exactly what they are capable of in open warfare.

At the centre of the conflict lie the Imperials who are desperately attempting to defend their homes against the raiding armies. With battles taking place in the cities of Bruma, Cheydinhal and Chorrol simultaneously, High King Emeric of the Daggerfall Covenant, Queen Ayrenn of the Aldmeri Dominion and Jorunn the Skald-King are present, but are preoccupied with their respective assaults on these cities. The soldiers of this battle must rely on their self-determination to gain victory; today the battle rests in the hands of individual soldiers doing their duty for their respective alliances. It is up to them to secure victory for their alliance and receive the favour of their leaders.

It will prove to be a bloody conflict and many will surely fall.

Yatur is a young orc, of the Ushul stronghold. He stands taller than most men but average for his race. His muscles are strong, though were not built through warfare and until recently, he was simply a slave mining for a fringe Altmer lord. Tonight will be his first taste of true warfare under King Emeric’s banner, and he finds himself in over his head. His brute strength can only carry him so far and he lacks the hard-earned skill of his brothers in arms to carry his weight. He stands at the front of the large force gathered by the Daggerfall Covenant, prepared to charge into their enemies. He refused to carry a shield out of blatant arrogance and instead, he holds a double-bladed axe. He is young and naive and assumed his heavy orcish armour would be enough to protect him. However, as the army marches, he feels its weight. His weapon is tough to carry and his armour weighs down on his shoulders. If he can muster the strength and play on his adrenaline, perhaps he might be useful.

The horns blare and the night sky lights up with a thousand flaming arrows raining down between the three armies - all forces charge at each other. It is time for battle.

Bludghul was one of the many young Orcs who where among their ranks. He was taller than most of his kinsmen and could see the battle already raging on in front of them. He was a beserker, instead of shield and blade he held two axes and wore a lightened version of the Orcish armor he had crafted himself. He was previously a mercenary and he had seen his share of skirmishes but nothing like this... this was a full-scale battle. He did a last check of his equipment and he was now suddenly standing in the vanguard. Arrows flew from the walls and he gave a bellowing yell along with his kin as they began to charge. An arrow missed him but hit his brother. He continued forward jumping over the bodies of previous attackers. As he neared the walls of Chorrol fear grew inside him. He witnessed a Breton regiment being burned alive by burning oil. There was no turning back he continued forward through the rain of arrows. By the chance that Malacath gave him he was not hit by an arrow. He felt his rage coming on as he climbed the ladder. He didn't notice but he was now standing on enemy walls. He quickly took in the scene. Burning city and a burning oak. His rage fired as he saw the enemy. His vision red he began cutting into the Imperials.

Seamus charged forward, a heavily armored Vanguard for the Covenant. He was on the front left and therefore was charging a wave of Nord, Argonian and Dunmer. He started getting tunnel vision and tried to wave it away. He had been told you don't even remember your first fight because your adrenaline is so high. He hoped to sway this theory.

He locked eyes on an Argonian ahead of him and charged, bringing back his Bardiche for a wide swing. The lizard was crafty and ducked, jabbing up with a spear. Seamus grabbed the spear below the end and pulled it to his side, yanking the Argonian in his direction, and swung right handed. The axe head sunk deep into its side spilling its dark tinted blood everywhere. He pulled it out and readied for his next attack..

Kaaos stood with the small contingent he had been given command over and began to map out some of the plans for attack. He could hear the screaming and fighting outside. It was all to familiar and never did he want to have to take part in another, but sometimes it is the reluctant who can best serve. At least that's what he told himself. He was a rather handsome looking dark elf of great age though only his eyes told that truth. His long white hair was straight and clean with a certain dignity it fell over his shoulders and on his back. He had many scars the most pronounced an almost ceremonial scar that ran down his left arm which at this moment in the tent was exposed. He wore black leather armor with some emblem on it. His cowl was gray and long. He was a great swordsmen and master of destruction though most other magics escaped him. He knew a bit about sneaking in the night and was a veteran of war. Today he was here between these great cities on the outskirts of the battle making plans to achieve victory.

Kaaos looked to the ten men in his tent and began to speak. He had a map of area and landmarks. He began to point out and map the plan.

"You three are good lock picks and can get into most places quietly so you can go in the burial mounds in the area that may lead under enemy troops *An argonian and dunmer would nod in agreement and prepare to leave*. If you run into any problems I will be sending Fjor *A nord would stand up and ready his battle axe* He should have your back don't expect him to do any sneaking. Now you two I will be sending to help the wounded with healing and safe haven from the conflict. *A nord in heavy armor with a large shield would nod and a dunmer in nice robes would bow and begin to head out of the tent.* As for you two stick with me I have a few more men to speak with and plans to work out." With that Kaaos would exit the tent and look for the rest of his contingency.

As he walked he could see the battle only a few hundred yards off. He knew soon he may be in the thick of it, but for now plans must be laid to ensure victory.

Lurks-In-Shadows stands in a tent, with a few other soldiers/sneaks of the Ebonheart Pact. Even if he had been offered the position of leader, which he hadn't, he would've turned it down, preferring to work by himself.
'And not in wars' He reminds himself arrogantly, but stays where he is, ready to support the Pact's cause.
Glumly, he listens to the screaming of the battle outside. He may be an assassin, but he had never seen so much bloodshed in one place. He was a young adult Argonian, with dark green scales (with the occasional black one), and bright yellow/orange eyes, always snapping about, looking for details. Scanning for friends and foes. He was wearing a dark dyed leather armor, not much suited for protection, but it allowed him to sneak away or hide in the shadows quite easily, as is his specialty. The armor is fairly new, not tested yet, which is good and bad. On his back lay Blinding Light, a Dwarven bow he has had for quite a while, since he raided a dwemer ruin with some of his newer friends. On his sides lay, sheathed, Swiftness and Shadow, two dwarven daggers he had found on the same trip. They all have delicate carvings on them, possibly with some significance, but they all had a slight redness to them, that could only be found if you plunge them in the bleeding body of a dying, or living, man. Which is what they had done.

Today, he was rolling his eyes, trying to hide his nervousness by showing his 'bravery'. No matter if they won these battles, captured these towns or not, Lurks knows he would get out of it alive, caring more for himself then for his cause. As is the common for assassins, thieves, and rogues.

Lurks-In-Shadows nods at Kaaos.
'Do we have to lug that giant nord around...' He thinks to himself.
'It's enough I have to go with these rookies... whatever'
"Yessir!" He says to Kaaos, acknowledging his orders.
He nods at the outside, beckoning to the other, Dunmeri sneak.
"You, come with me, and try not to give away our position, please?"
With that, Lurks goes off, stealthily, heading for the burial mounds.

He sees, in the backround, the side clashing for the towns, and possibly for the throne, eventually and indirectly.
'Well, I'm glad I'm not over there!' He thinks, chuckling, 'But, in case one of them decide to come over here for whatever reason, I should get ready... who knows what those men and Orcs think'
He takes out his dual dwarven daggers with intricate designs on them. Swiftness and Shadows, the two things that Lurks needs to have success, and lets the Dunmer take the lead.

(( "War has erupted amongst Tamriel’s heartland province of Cyrodiil. Three armies have amassed between the cities of Bruma, Cheydinhal and Chorrol" ))

Bludghul was in battle shock. He now stood in horde of Corpses and was covered in blood. Never had he seen so much blood. His shock was broken when reinforcements were climbing up the tower. His unit had successfully cleared the walls of most of the imperials but head heavy dead. He was among the 5 that survived. Now the push was to take the town square in which stood the large oak. He looked down at the town. He imagined that this town was fairly beautiful before the siege, his thoughts were broken by a large force of Imperials making a shield wall guarding the town square. He moved down from the walls and into the town. He regrouped with a Breton unit. He took a gulp of ale to take his mind of the fatigue. He was prepared again to strike the enemy.

"The greatest folly of great mages and sorcerers alike is pride. They believe their magical abilities to elevate them well beyond others, that they lose sight of their place in the world. They find themselves entitled to greater rewards and glory, ones that they feel they rightfully deserve. They conclude that no mere man or mer could possibly stand against them, that they are but pests to the powers of the arcane. So when a simple blade finds its way into their heart, or an arrow pierces their throat-- their world shatters in an instant, and they die like any other mortal.

But it is not the lowly militia man or oafish warrior that killed them. No my dear student, what killed them was their pride."

These were the words of one of his instructors; a veteran battlemage, who enjoyed his peaceful winter years teaching at the Arcane University. Sunrio couldn't quite recall how the entire conversation started, for at the time he had no interest in using his magics for battle. But even then he knew that the old man's words held wisdom. If he were to die on the battlefield today, it would not be because of pride.

The wagon came to a sudden stop, the wooden wheels creaking on the dry dirt road. It was time to disembark.

Sunrio stood up and dropped down from the back of the wagon, following his fellow Aldmeri troops onto the surrounding grass plains. They had reached the destination of their forward camp, the fiery fury of the frontlines visible in the near distance. It had been a long journey, but they had finally arrived from the south to reinforce the Dominion's efforts in northern Cyrodiil. And it appeared the battle was already underway.

As the reinforcements rallied to prepare for its march into battle, Sunrio strode into his position amongst its ranks. He stood tall with his fellow Altmer, a scar running across the right side of his face beneath his amber eyes, framed by the visor of a golden elven helm. The armor he wore was that of an Aldmeri spellsword; a mix of plate and scales, notably golden and embellished with avian emblems. It was well-forged, durable enough as to protect against minor strikes-- though hardly could protect him against the full might of an orcish battle axe or nordic warhammer. Still it provided suitable protection while weighing lightly for him to cast his destructive magics.

To compliment his expertise with conjured lightning, he held a doubled-edged elven long sword for those who drew close. Normally he'd wield it in combination with a shield, however participating in several skirmishes with Imperial forces to the south earned him a minor injury in the process. A swing from a steel mace had glanced his left arm, leaving it unable to effectively support a shield for the time being. He assured the healers however that he was still able to fight-- he would just have to redouble his offensive capabilities.

He rolled his shoulder, ignoring the acute jolt of pain, as he stepped in unison with the forces of the Aldmeri Dominion-- heading forward towards the sounds of war.

A battalion of Dominion troops marched to the battle from their forward camp in the grassy plains not far from Chorrol. However Do'Shanji was not among them. He was in the camp sitting at a grindstone, working his silver long sword across the big wheel. 'It must be perfect' He was a khajiit, though quite different from most of his kin. He stood a head taller and had more strength than the average khajiit. His body was adorned in custom fitted armor, hand crafted by the Mane's personal armorsmith. It weighed more than chain mail, but less than steel plate. It provided him less protection, but better mobility. He normally carried a shield, but his mission would make it a hindrance to carry one. He would instead need to rely heavily on his mastery of the khajiit martial arts and his skill with one handed blades. A veteran of many battles, Do'Shanji was a very experienced and talented warrior, but the experience came at a price. He was older now, a bit slower and had sustained many wounds over time.

His blade sufficiently sharpened, Do'Shanji moved towards a group of other soldiers. There was a mix of Bosmer, Altmer and Khajiit among them and they numbered three dozen. This small band of soldiers was part of the Dominion's aggressive strategy. His group would bypass the large battle and make their way to the roads surrounding the area, attempting to cut off supplies and reinforcements to the Ebonheart Pact.

They waited for a signal from the high command to move out.

SirKenny greeted Bludghul as he approached him and his unit of breton solders. "Bludghul! what a stroke of luck, i was hoping to find someone here to help me lead these grunts into battle!" smiles. "perhaps you and I can see who kills the most Eh? a little friendly wager?" SirKenny was on leading a group of low ranking solders who all seemed to be scared shit-less. Kenny knew their fates in this battle were most likely to end with screaming and blood, but he knew that this is what they had signed up for. When he told the breton general that he would agree to leading a unit of men he was hoping for something a little more... well impressive to say the least, but now that Bludghul had regrouped with them, maybe the men's moral would go up.

Bludghul was happy to see a friend in this battle he smiled back. "Haha you are nothing compared to me. If I get more kills you owe me Brandy." He smiled and prepared for combat. A young Breton was out of line he punched him in the stomach. "Get in line worm" He yelled at the downed Breton and pulled him to a standing position. The Breton limping got to his place. He was now getting used to the screams that seemed to fill the streets. An average orc is taller than a Breton and Bludghul was taller than an average orc. In this unit full of Bretons he towered over them... an easy shot for a skilled archer. But he was a great boast to moral to the young Bretons who now stood almost as if they have already won this battle. The chances were against them however the rest of the army had been cut off by the Aldmeri Dominion and they were stuck inside the city with it's Imperial host. With no chance of supplies and reinforcments until King Emeric breaks through the Aldmeri forces they were all doomed. He heard the Aldmeri Dominion Beating down the gates with a battering ram. He heard languages he had not heard before. The Breton general still did not decide to attack the Imperials or let them fight the Aldmeris on the other side of town who had not yet beat down the gates. Either way Bludghul was ready to kill some Imperials and the cursed blight the Aldmeris.

*BANG BANG BANG*
Quibs eyes slowly opened
*BANG BANG BANG*
"wha, what?" quib mumbled
"C'mon you welps, WAKE UP!" a nord shouted while banging a small drum "I said said UP you welp!"
the nord gave Quib a sharp jab to knock him out of his bed "it's looks like war is 'ere and we'll be needing ALL able body men... beast! we can get our hands on"

Quib stood up. he stood rather tall at 5'10 but was of slender build. Quib struggled to get his armor on in such a rush, it was heavy! real heavy. the nord grabbed him and went to put a helmet on his head only to find out it couldn't fit because of the head spines quib had covering his head!
the nord shook his head "may the eight have mercy on you lizard, for i feel you may not see the morn"
Quib picked up his Mace and shield and waddled off with the rest of the group of less abled warriors.

(Noooo soo many of my friends... :( I don't want to fight you quib)

Sir kenny looked to his men. "We'll boys I know this looks grim but fight with your hearts and remember your training stay near me and Bludghul and we'll get you out of this alive." He began muttering a few prayers to the divines he knew once the dominion came through the chance of any of the inexperienced men would make it out, he stood taller then his Breton troops, and he wore his family's noble armor. Again and again the battering ram struck the gate. He drew his sword and raised his hand which was ready with fire.

Alator was in a duel against Three Altmer battlemages two of them he killed with a thunderbolt and the last finished he with a fireball. Alator was one of the Covenants greatest mages and lead a troop with fifty mages and threehunderdfifty warriors. Emeric had sent him to attack the dominion from the side. He drew his sword and rushed with a battle cry against the Dominion forces with his men Close behind him. The Soldiers clashed with screams, first Alator ran into Three khajiit swordsmen. Alator ran his sword into the closest then he raised his hand and a bolt of Lightning flunged the others back at their freinds. Then a battlemage hurled ice spike at him, Alator raised a ward then he threw a fireball at the mage wich made him a smoking corpse. Then twenty foot-Soldiers charges against him Alator raises his arm and sends a wave of Lightning that flunges them back thirty feet.

Alator smiled for himself and thought what luck it was that this part of the army didnt have so many skilled mages wich makes it much easier to crush their forces here. He raised his sword and pointed on a troop wich came as reinforcements to the dominion and shouted "MAGES STOP THEM!" then the mages in his troop started firing spells against them, Alator located the leader of the troop and finished him with a spear of ice through the chest. Then the rest of them scattered and started retreating. They started push back the Dominions forces from the hill they fought on and Alator and the Soldiers with him stayed there waiting for what should happen next. Alator said for himself "By the eight i hope Emeric attacks them soon Before the damned dominions main army attacks us."

Iogairn knocked a Dunmer's sword's thrust down with a cut, using the space to go for the Dunmer's face with his hilt, following through with the action. As the Dunmer's head was knocked back he drove the blade into the Dunmer's neck. Typically it got stuck. Iogairn sighed. He was not having a good day. He didn't even know why he was fighting. Something to do with honour and the glory of the covenant. But the Order needed representing and represented the Order was.
As he struggled with his sword he caught sight of an Argonian running at him. Well bugger, he thought. He grabbed his dagger and threw it at the Argonian, causing a satisfying thud as it sank into the Argonian's chest. He was pleased with himself before he realised; he didn't have a weapon. He returned to his fight with his sword.
"Come on you bastard, you owe me one," he growled to it then realised he was, in fact, talking to an inanimate object. Luckily no-one but the dead heard. But he still didn't trust the corpses. Their personal hygiene was appalling.
JUst as he was contemplating the idea another Nord ran at him, sword in hand. He swung at Iogairn, forcing him away from his sword and any other weapon. I hate my life, Iogairn contemplated as he backpedalled.

(Jolgurd, is a grizzled middle aged warrior, and veteran of the battle of fort virtutis. He has seen fighting all his life and it has taken it's toll. Jolgurds long dark blond hair and beared, has turned almost completely gray. his weight and muscle mass has fallen prey a diseases. however his muscles remember there former strength)

*Cough, *cough, *Hack. *Cough
Jolgurd stares horrified at the blood he coughed up.
"Sir! are you alright?" said a younger nord, with much concern on his face.
Jolgurd was a dying man, and he knew this. He didn't expect to see many more winters. "I'm fine" he grunts trying not to show the obvious signs of his illness.
Jolgurd fastens his armor (a mixt of chain-mail and furs) he places a steel helmet on his head, and grabs his ebony war axe and shield. He then leaves to join the others already being briefed by Kaaos