The Battle at the Gate of Adagalsack

The Conference at the Gate

King Julian and Duke Relmopator led the forces of Adagalsack beyond the Great Gate, the wind whistling through the high stone arch as banners waved and troops readied for battle. In the distance, the Azcalan forces assembled—an endless sea of men, beasts, and warriors clad in feathered armor.

Duke Fortunadus, the ever-present tactician, was already consulting his map, his eyes sharp with anticipation. His Gathering of the Green warriors wandered among the forces of Adagalsack giving kind word, encouragement, and singing battle songs..

The great assembly of troops followed the King and his favorite duke, The south wind. With them came the East Wind;Trualta, the Horse Lord and his forces.

Behind Relmopator flew his familiar Bob, the beholder, seeing, and recording everything.. On his lap is the small dog Kevin, familiar with battle by now. Behind them the forces of the south.

The Azcalan forces were led by the Great Prince of Zictla, Zictalas, Son of the Azcalan God-Emperor Tonacat. 200,000 feathered infantry. 10,000 of the Chiplix spread out to leap and lead.

Realmer’s eyes narrowed as he observed the Azcalan lines. "They don't fight to conquer, Julian. They fight to... feed something darker. These men, they believe sacrifice is the only currency they have with their gods."

Contact occurred quickly with the forces of Adagalsack outnumbered but far better trained and armored. Duke Fortunadus mentally contacted Julian and Realmer. " You guys have them pinned. I’m rounding up some eager soldiers—three thousand bards, practically tripping over themselves to become legends, or at least part of songs. I’ll take the East around your line, Julian. Running room is plentiful, but watch your left—the dottles cavalry is there. They are doing well but that flank won’t hold if the Azcalans strike at full force."*

Julian frowns grimly, "Understood. And if we pull back to the road, we might force them to the Gate. Outnumbered or not, our troops are better seasoned."

As the dottles flanked widely Fort called mentally, “Hey!!, they have something like 100,000 infantry about 5 miles down the Azcalan road!!!

Julian curses. "Alright. Let's do a staged retreat back to the road. See if we can lure them to the gate. We have better troops. .Rotating units in the gate we can out last them.”

Fort says," They can certainly breed!!!"

Realmer says," they breed heavy to feed the alters."

An hour passes as the battle breaks up to follow the Adagalsack troops as they race to a defensive hold at the gate.

Once the gate defense was established a 100,000 troop line faced the 350,000 Azcalan invading force.

King Julian shouts, “We won't give them an inch!! If I die here, by the teats of the unicorn, the bastards will know they fought a Prince of Amber! Can't let Eric have all the glory of dying for Amber!!”

Duke fort rolls his eyes, trying to decide what troops he could get here fast enough through magical portals.

The forces of Adagalsack reposition themselves, marching back to the Great Gate in a disciplined, steady retreat. As the Azcalan army pushes forward, the clash grows fiercer, the air thick with the clamor of swords and the smell of smoke and sweat. Both sides know this is more than a battle; it is a test of wills and legacies.

When the Earth Shook

Just then the earth shook. Out beyond the Azcalan army came a rushing magical cloud obscuring the rear horizen and the Jeweled Road.

Hell followed with it.

Suddenly, the sound of deep, resonant horns fills the battlefield, echoing off the distant cliffs and the clouds dissipate. All heads turn as, from the rear of the Azcalan forces, the First Legions of King Alexandir kos Korag come into view. Towering above them, five thousand titans stride forward in gleaming, enchanted Rearden armor, each wielding a sword taller than a man, cleaving through Azcalan lines with no hesitation.*

As Alexandir’s titans advance, their greatswords mow down wave after wave of Azcalan infantry. Behind them, 10,000 human warriors move with precision, dispatching the wounded and closing off any escape routes.

The very earth continued to shake beneath the Rearden shod titan legions that surged onto the battlefield, their massive forms casting shadows over the troops below. Rearden chain-plate glinted in the sun as their greatswords sliced through the Azcalan ranks like a scythe through wheat. No mercy was offered or given. To the Azcalan's credit, none was asked for.

The king and the two duke all cast Far Eye to see what was happening there.

At the front of the 10' titans was the 14' great King Alexandir of Tosa in his legendary Rearden plate armor. His presence, like an unstoppable force of nature, cleaved the enemy’s will in half."

Units of cavalry and infantry flanked the Azcalans to keep them from fleeing. The blue and yellow covered cavalry showed that the Kingdom of Wall was in the battle.

Fort comes to his king in person. "You could ask them to surrender and it would do no good. Alex has his berserk on. So do those 5000 buddies of his. That's his Warrior Brethren. He'll cut them down till he stands before us."

Realmer asks,"Do we let him?"

Julian mutters, "This is high barbarism."* > Realmer adds, "I have never seen anything like it."*

Fort says, “I have, but then I've fought beside Alex his whole life.”

Julian nods, “ Funny thing is that Benedict is probably around here someplace and he has. Alright. Surrendering troops get our protection. We see how much good that does. I'll tell you one thing. I'm am not interested on fighting that monster if his berserk is really on. Start rotating surrendered troops inside the gate. Maybe we can civilized them. Find their Duke"

Out of the titans strides Alexandir himself, king of Tosa, king of York, mauling through warriors too stupid to admit defeat. Their great leaders stride to fight him thinking only of their glory if they defeat him .

Fort says, "Somethings strange down there. He fights with a 6' Maudu and a broadsword. Why?"

Realmer says," He is mowing them down good. Defending with the Maudu. ."

Julian inhales hard,"The broadsword...It can't be.... damn... it is. That's Shieldbreaker!!! He is wielding Shieldbreaker against the Azcalans!!"

Fort nods," There is a good chance they don't know it's secret. Do we tell them? "

Julian looks at his two generals. "They came to make war on us. Let's make it so they won't do it again in the lives of men. Charge."

The forces surge out and fight toward Alexandir. His forces suddenly break right as the Azcalan command attempt to shift and get the the Azcalan side of the titans. But the cliff walls of the road to Adagalsack, though miles away make it hard.

In a blur the area around Alexandir goes still and the Azcalan army flees. The titan follow as do the Tosians.

Alexandir salutes and does a 1/5 bow, giving the battle and victory to King Julian, allowing the native troops to follow the fleeing forces.

• The battle wanes as the remaining Azcalans break and flee, but Alexandir’s forces give no quarter. Eventually, surrounded by the protective wall of titans, Alexandir approaches King Julian, his armor spattered with the blood of his enemies. His calm demeanor contrasts sharply with the intensity of the fight.*

The Choice of the Dead

Alexandir, bowing slightly, "The field is yours, King Julian. My forces will withdraw as you command, but I bring news of a choice."*

• He gestures to the fallen body of Zictalas, the Great Prince of Zictla. Currently dead. “

My healers could raise him anytime in the next few hours. King Vance has the technology to as well if we get him there quickly. It is your decision. My advice is let Tonacat know that making war on Amber or Adagalsack has consequences.."

Julian looks to Fort.

"My bard and General , you know the ways of the Azcalans. What would you suggest?"*

Fortunadus shrugs. "Build a pyre. Let his people see him returned to ashes."*

• Julian nods thoughtfully and turns to Realmer.*

Julian looks to Realmer. " Duke of the South Wind and my closest adviser. What say you? "

Realmer fights his urges but says " Azcala owes the shopgirls of Amber if no one else. He came to make war on us. He would be a great hostage. Tonacat would pay a great deal for him Even dead. Their control over life and death may be beyond ours. But I would not turn my eyes nor disagree if he was placed on a pyre."

"My king, we have an opportunity here that cannot be ignored. The battlefield is thick with the bodies of our fallen, but they need not remain so. I can raise them, give them purpose once more. Imagine what an army of undead soldiers would mean for the future of Adagalsack."

Relmopator’s eyes gleam with a cold fire. He speaks with the calm confidence of someone who has long embraced the art of necromancy, seeing the dead as tools, nothing more. "We will control not only the living, but the dead. And the Azcalans will fear us, King Julian. The dead obey, and they do not tire."

Julian looks down at the bodies—fallen soldiers, both from his side and the Azcalans. He sees them as men who fought and died with honor, and the idea of using them as pawns disturbs him.

Julian says, "You speak of them as if they are merely husks, Relmopator. They were once men, with families and homes. Do you forget that?" Julian's voice is tight with a quiet fury, but his mind is torn. He has always trusted Relmopator, but this… this crosses a line he isn’t sure he’s willing to cross.

Relmopator shrugs, his expression unbothered.

"They are soldiers now, my king. And soldiers serve until they no longer can. As King Oberon was fond of saying: Death is no reprieve from duty."

Julian thinks. I did not wage this war to turn my kingdom into a place of the dead. Necromancy is an unnatural art. To claim the dead… it feels like an affront to their memory, to the very idea of honor in battle.

His eyes flick to the pyre that will be built to honor the fallen. The fire will cleanse the dead, send their souls—if such things exist—into the next realm. But even as he thinks of this, the question gnaws at him: Would it be more honorable to let these men rest in peace, or to claim their power for the kingdom’s future?

Julian looks to the thrice crowned bard, “Your advice?”

Fort says clearly, with conviction, "Not even your most loyal subjects will accept the raising of the dead, my king. If you claim the fallen here, you risk losing the support of the people. They may not understand why you would raise an army of monsters—no matter the threat."

Realmer nods, with a rare solemnity, "You are right, Fort. Necromancy isn’t just a tool—it’s a symbol. What will the people say when they see our soldiers walking among the dead? They may not fear it, but they will hate it."

Relmopator stands at the edge of the gathering, his fingers twitching with the potential power he could claim. He watches the pyre being constructed, his lips barely moving as he speaks to Julian.

"Yet, It is not too late, my king. There is time yet to claim those who fell today. What will you do with the dead, Julian? Will you let them go to the flames as your ancestors did? Or will you make use of them, make them serve Amber for a greater purpose?"

Julian looks toward the fire, his heart heavy with the weight of his decision.

Finally, after much contemplation, Julian gathers his advisors and the army’s leaders around him.

Julian speaks, "Relmopator, I respect your loyalty. You have served Adagalsack well. But I cannot in good conscience raise these men from the dead. The battlefield is not a place for magic that defiles the natural order. We will honor them as they deserve. The pyre is for all the dead, both friend and foe. I will not have Adagalsack known for necromancy, no matter the temptation it offers. Let us remember these warriors for their valor, not their use as tools of war."

Relmopator’s expression hardens, but he nods respectfully. He knows his king’s mind will not be changed, at least not today.

Relmopator, "Very well, my king. If that is your will, I will obey. But you must understand the costs of this decision. In the future, we may face enemies that will not be defeated by mortal men alone." He gestures to the pyre. "And when that day comes, we may wish we had done things differently."

But he also thinks, Ashes may not be dead enough for him to be unable to raise them, if needed.

Julian stands tall, his jaw set.

"We will find other ways to defend Adagalsack. We will rely on living men, not the dead."

As the flames begin to rise, consuming the bodies of both Azcalans and his own fallen warriors, Julian’s mind still churns with doubt. He knows he has made a hard decision, one that will have consequences far beyond the battlefield. The question of how far he will go to protect Amber lingers in the back of his mind, but for now, he has chosen the path of honor, even at the cost of military advantage.

Julian nods to King Alexandir as he watches the fire, stoicly. "Thank you, King of Tosa. Would you join us at the Spiral of the Westwind, meet my wife?"

Alex bows a full quarter. "It would be my honor, your Majesty. "

Julian nods, issues orders but stops the giant king, “May I ask you something sir?”

He nods.

“If the field was yours, would you have raised the dead?”

The King of Wall looks to the King of Adagalsack.

“No. And none of my advisors would have suggested it. Of course one of my advisors is your own Duke Fortunadus of course. You are a new king. I had a time to make that choice. I made the same as you did. Never question it.”

King Julian nods. “Then let us travel to the Hall of the West Wind, and my wife.”

And so it is done.