The battle for Redvyrne

Highlands - Dunland <>

Before you, stretches the beautiful hills and vales known as the Dunlending highlands. Bare hills of deep green lie mist enshrouded in a silent chill. Trees of varying hues of brown and green dot the lands, keeping watch on bubbling streams full of icy cold water. Ruins of some forgotten building stand alone, on top of a small rise, its once proud stone now covered in a thick skin of moss. Standing here, atop a knoll, you feel at peace.

People pass slowly along the road coming and going to the great Keep of Redvyrne.

Obvious exits:

Redvyrne Keep leads to Courtyard <>.

West leads to Highlands - Dunland <>.

East leads to Old South Road - Dunland <>.

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Dunland Time and Weather Forecast

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Real Time is: Wed Feb 11 15:08:06 2009

IC time is: Late night, near dawn

IC date is: Autumn/winter in the year 3045.

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[Saffron(#15443)]

The sun readies to peek out from behind the mountains on this cold winter\'s night, but darkness still reigns supreme. There is a cruel bite to the winds that blow across Redvyrne, and the smell of smoke is a signal that something is amiss.

Even from a distance, there seems to be something wrong with the Wulf Keep. Shouting can be heard from behind the great wall, and at times, clang of steel. It is the sound of conflict and death, familiar for some, new and frightening for others.

[Desmond(#19982)] Silent is the party led by Fian Desmond, as the ten men of Wulf approach the secret tunnel entrance behind him. All are dressed in black clothing and armoured in studded leather armour to maintain stealth. They wield daggers in addition to their usual weapons this coming morn as they hope for silent kills before the hard fighting breaks lose once the gate has been openned. Most have donned black war paint upon their faces to blend with the shadows of the Keep, but all have made sure to remove anything that may rattle.

Like ghosts they now move down towards the tunnel entrace, all talk having ceased several minutes before as the last of the preparation was made. The Fian himself has applied much paint to his face, giving him the image of a shadow save the whites of his eyes. At his sides are several cloth bags of unknown origin as well as his longsword well secured in its scabbard so as not to shake within it. Removing the cover of the doorway into the earth, the man now move into the tunnel.

Outside, in the darkness that blankets the lands, half-seen shapes move. Men file slowly across the hillside, their destination the great Keep that squats nearby. The order has been given for stealth, but many here are not trained scouts, and one with sharp ears might pick up the faint sounds of movement. The cracking of a twig, the rustling of autumn-dried bracken ... and there a murmur. \"That was quick work! We\'d best speed our pace.\"

The response comes back as a low hiss. \"No. That cannot be Fian Desmond, not enough time has passed. Your orders stand. I\'d rather enter Kiern\'s hall a victor than a fool.\" The speaker is the tall young man at the head of one column, his ringmail marked by an insignia of two tumbling wolves intertwined at the left breast, and his dark hair spilling out from beneath his metal helm. The young Fian of Dingadarn, Bledrann Faol.

[Stekan(#6174)] Standing behind Fian Bledrann, a young man, no more than sixteen summers is crouched. He is called Stekan, and hails from a hamlet near the Gap of Rohan. When he heard fighting had broken out up north, he was quick to answer the call of the Fian and join their cause in repelling the Bear. Dunland at war with Dunland, his parents had not heard of it in a long while, but, things like this happened they said, and it gave boys experience when it was time to make war with the Forgoil.

He is silent, saying nothing, simply nodding at his lord with a spear in his hands. His palms sweat, hands shake, and breath heaves in anticipation of battle.

[Irvin(#15443)]

The ten men led by Desmond would enter undetected into the tunnel. In fact, there is no Bear stationed to watch on the walls, hence even the approach of Bledrann\'s men do not raise alarm. As the Wulf draw nearer from both sides, the sounds of fighting from behind the Keep wall become more compelling.

The head scout for Desmond who would have the privilege of opening the secret trap door into the kitchen of Redvyrne Keep would immediately make eye contact with a man whose face is a mere inches from his. His bloodshot eyes stare straight at the scout - sideways.

For the man is a corpse.

The freshly dead body lies sprawled out, with the contents of his body liberally spread on the walls and on the floor. His hand still clutches the sword on an arm that is outstretched.

There is sound of steel clashing everywhere from within. In short, the Bear are busy fighting to paying attention to the intruders.

Bledrann\'s words are answered by a grunt, and the older fellow who\'d spoken before tosses back, \"Not to mention that holding back doubles the pleasure.\"

Bledrann turns haughty features in his direction, and maintains silence for a moment, then lets out a bark of laughter. \"You related to Jade Dunhallow, by any chance?\" The other man is given no chance to answer, for Bledrann then jerks his head left and hisses, \"That way.\" A contingent of men peel off from the rest, their destination a small copse on a hillock overlooking the keep. The rest begin to fan out.

Bledrann peers through the night toward the young man waiting patiently behind him. \"You. How\'s your aim? If the Fian doesn\'t open the gates on time, we may need a little diversion.\"

[Stekan(#6174)] The young man does not have a bow on him, and he shrugs in response, \"Fair I suppose, Fian.\" The man places a knee upon the ground, resting his spear atop his knee. \"Good enough to shoot a buck from fifty paces,\" he says, which really is only claiming to be average.

Stekan frowns, \"Sorry, Fian,\" he says with a sigh, \"I can throw a spear straighter than I can shoot.\"

[Desmond(#19982)] If it were not for the man\'s experience he would have let out a yell, instead he bites down heavily on his lip. Blood soon leaving the fresh cut, only to licked away by a tongue dry with nervousness. With a bit of an effort, the head scout pushes the corpse to the side of the entrance and glances about inside before giving the \'all clear\' signil with his hand. The man disappearing through the exit, the other scouts in the party nod to one another before following their Fian who is second through the passage. It takes a few moment for all eleven of them to leave the passage but they are soon fanning out in the kitchen, keeping their eyes glued to all of the entrances to the room. They listen now to the battle going on within the Keep before the head scout glances around a corner to check if it is clear and gives a nod to the men. They now move along with daggers drawn.

[Irvin(#15443)]

Fierce is their fighting. This is not some bar brawl over who called someone\'s mother a whore. Blood is shed, limbs are lost. This is a fight to the death.

Fighting in the center of the courtyard flanked by two of his own men, is Irvin. His face and arms are covered in the blood of his own kin, and his face shows the torrent of emotion.

\"You\'ve doomed us all, Irvin!\" one of his attackers screams as he goes down under the blow of a battle axe.

The odds against Irvin and the handful of Bear is overwhelming, yet they seem to be holding their own against the larger group who still stagger from the effects of the sleeping draught, one would think.

In the heat of battle, still, no one notices the intruders, and no one is at the lookout, hence, Bledrann\'s men are undetected.

\"Oh.\" That single word conveys Bledrann\'s disapproval to Stekan clearly enough, even if the darkness hides the frown that must surely accompany it. \"In that case, you\'re with me. I trust you can stab a man through the heart easily enough? Not long now till you get your chance ...\" His tone eager, yet as he falls silent to await the answer he cocks his head, listening to the distant shouts and clash of blades. \"If Desmond doesn\'t do all the work for us. Damn. I should have gone with him.\"

The whispered words cease as he looks up at the walls that loom ever nearer, disconcertingly empty of enemy spear or arrow.

[Stekan(#6174)] The young boy nods, \"I am ready!\" Stekan huffs, now gripping his spear hard. \"I am ready!\" His words are muffled, buy excited as he attempts to keep his voice down. He appears eager enough, but it is impossible to tell just how skilled he might or might not be. He creeps forward, almost seemingly like he will charge forward at any second, regardless of the commands given to him.

[Desmond(#19982)] As silent as the dead the scouts move, the corridor they had taken oppening up into a large hallway where several other passage ways connect. Quick glances are given to several corpses decorating the empty hallway, before the ghosts move along the either side of the hall sticking to the shadows. Rasing a fist, the company halts at the command of the master scout Hagan. Pointing now towards a dark doorway, the man moves and sniffs the air within the room before nodding the men once again. A flickering torch light reveals a spiralling stair case, which the group travels up in quick time. Once at the top of the tower, the ghosts move onto the wall itself, keeping low and as close to the castling as possible.

They are soon upon the gate house, and the Fian gives hand gestured orders for his company to take up defencive positions within. Hagan then approaches an arrow slit in the wall of the gatehouse and lets out a near flawless imitation of a crow cawing loud and clear.

Within the ranks of those massing outside the Keep, bows are drawn, spear-tips readied, those few who possess swords have drawn them, and men ... wait. In a situation such as this, it is understandable that men are twitchy. One bowman pulls back a nocked arrow, seeming about to loose into the darkness, until another grabs at his arm and shakes his head warningly. \"Only an owl.\" The archer turns angrily - is a fight about to break out here too?

Bledrann has a sword, and more - a buckler is strapped to his left arm. It is the blade, however, that is lifted to draw the bickering troops\' attention. In a clear voice, far louder than the hisses of before, he calls out \"Forward!\" And he is off, leading a wedge of men - Stekan among them? - openly toward the gate. Clearly he believes that it will open.

The rest of Desmond\'s men remain within the cover of darkness, still patiently waiting.

[Stekan(#6174)] Leaping to his feet, Stekan rushes forward, almost falling over as the earth beneath himp slips from a forceful push against dirt and grass. \"For Wulf! For Freca!\" he yells, \"For Freoborn!\" He does not yell anything about the most recent Ceann, as his parents taught him not to get caught up in politics, and the name Praxis might just do that. Instead, he runs after Bledrann, head down, charging as if he could defeat anyone in the fort with a scream from his lungs that carries across the sky as he moves.

[Desmond(#19982)] A glance is given from the arrow slit to the approaching soldiers, before Hagan turns to nod towards his commander. The Fian looks from face to face as he smiles to each of the men in his company. Sheathing his dagger, he hand now moves to his longsword. Still in a whisper he says to the ghosts about him, \"We must hold the gatehouse until they are all in. No matter what.\" Giving the command to a pair of scouts, the gate winch then begins to be turned. Tink. Tink. Tink. Tink. The rythm is slow at first but soon it builds as the adrenaline rushes faster through the veins of the workers.

And down below, the gates swing open. Battle is near.

[Desmond(#19982)] The soldiers of Desmond now march along eager to reclaim Redvyrne in the name of their Fian and their Clan. Weapons drawn they double march towards the gate which is now sliding open to welcome back its true owners. Leading them for now is Conri and as they move he speaks to the men. \"We must cut a path to the Fian. Kill all Bears in your path and hold key positions but we must meet up with Desmond. He will likely be int he midst of the combat.\" With cries of \"Aye.\" They then move from a double march to a full out run.

The Wulf pack has been unleashed.

[Irvin(#15443)]

By the time someone notices there are intruders in the midst, more than half of the original fifty Bears had fallen.

\"WULF!\"

Someone shouts, pointing, his eyes stretched wide. \"THEY ARE OPENING THE GATE!\"

The fighting between brothers halt within the span of a single heartbeat, and the Bear all turn to look at the gate that opens rapidly to reveal a charging cavalry - the famed mounted militia of the Wulf, along with a rushing tide of armed men, weapons readied. The sight is breathtaking, even for those who are about to die.

Irvin\'s face turns from dark to light.

\"At last we shall have an honorable fight.\"

Irvin grips his blood-soaked battle axe with a renewed vigor. \"Archers!\" He yells at the handful of remaining Bears who stand, stunned still. \"Archers in position!\" he yells again. \"Close the gate!\"

[Finnian(#23897)] Dirgan stands beside Irvin, a hulking Bear that\'s over six feet tall with large muscles, a wild gray beard, and a bald head. His face is riddled with scars from several decades of fights, and in his hands he holds a massive spiked club that\'s already wet with blood.

When the cry of the gate opening goes out, he shoves to get in front of the group, a black-toothed grin splitting his ugly face. \"The Wulf come to play.\" He says with a laugh.

As the gate begins to open Bledrann doubles his pace, the heavy ringmail seeming to weigh him down little in the rush of adrenaline. In contrast to most of the Wulf, he is eerily silent - until, that is, he is almost upon the gates. Then he calls out, \"For the clan! We\'ll feast in Redvyrne tonight, or in Kiern\'s Hall - either will do me!\" Then, with a fierce grin on his face, he charges through the gap in the gates, heading straight towards Irvin, his tall frame silhouetted in the light of the torches.

[Desmond(#19982)] The men of Desmond\'s hold rush in behind Beldrann\'s men and are soon engaged with the enemy. Their leader Conri now attempting to direct the flow of battle in the direction of the stairs, Desmond\'s men scream their war crimes and fight on in a fevour suiting the clan to which they belong.

Meanwhile near the gatehouse, the Fian himself unties the cloth bags from his waste and undoes the knot closing each of them. Passing several over to Hagan, the two men await the enemy from the top of the stair armed with cloth bags. \"Wait for my command.\"

And what exactly do these bags contain?

[Irvin(#15443)]

The Wulf would ride into the familiar courtyard of Redvyrne Keep, but it will already be a battleground stained with Bear blood. Bodies are scattered about, draped over wells, crates and barrels in various stages of death. But those left standing face their enemy without fear.

\"Fear not for our children, Dirgan. Our wives have made a pact to raise them together if we fell. They will grow up knowing their fathers died with honor and glory.\" Irvin tells his friend, before taking a stance.

\"This is it, men! Make your ancestors proud! Earn your place at Kiern\'s table!\"

He makes eye contact with the young Fian and charges with his battleaxe, his roar as loud and ferocious as an angry bear.

Half a dozen Bears take their position at the side of the Courtyard, shooting arrows as the intruders pour in. Two men go after the black clad men at the gatehouse.

[Finnian(#23897)] \"Aye, Irvin.\" The Bear responds. \"Honor for Kiern! Honor for Kavanagh!!\" Dirgan yells, then the large warrior picks out a target amongst those coming out of the gatehouse and runs that way. He swings his heavy spiked club down at the first Wulf he encounters, roaring wordlessly with all the ferocity of his clan\'s namesake.

[Desmond(#19982)] As the two men run up the stair way to reach the gatehouse, Desmond grins and finally gives the command to Hagan. As the Bear soldiers sprint up the stairs, the Fian and his Master Scout turn the several bags upside down, causing hundreds of smooth, round pebbles to bounce down the stairs towards the feet of the two charging men. Not waiting to see the results the two men pick up their longswords and prepare for battle.

Behind them, the rest of the scouting party has opted for drawing their daggers which they now temporarily leave the safey of the gatehouse to throw down into the enemy\'s lines.

Having made it through the gate without hindrance, Bledrann focuses his gaze solely on the Bear who is giving the orders - Irwin. The body that he kicks as he enters the courtyard does not halt his single-minded charge, nor the arrow that whizzes past his ear, though the one that now quivers in his buckler slows his pace somewhat. As the two men close he veers to the right, out of the reach of that swinging axe, then darts forward for a slashing blow at the Bear\'s left side.

As for those still pouring through the part-opened gates? Those who have shields use them. Those who don\'t close their eyes and pray. For some, the next face they look on will be Kiern\'s.

[Irvin(#15443)]

The enemy line - if one can call it that -- consists of five Bears who stand and face the brunt of the tidal wave of angry Wulfs bent on revenge.

Another two are tripping and falling helplessly over the smooth pebbles unleashed by Desmond.

The remaining eight are releasing arrows into the Wulf army as fast and furious as their arms can shoot.

The overwhelming odds do not seem to matter to Irvin as he squares off with Bledrann. When the young Fiann\'s sword makes contact with his armor, leaving an indelible groove against the stiff leather, the older man grins.

\"What is your name?\" He asks, as he idly spins the hefty axe in his palm, letting the blood fly off in droplets.

[Finnian(#23897)] Dirgan moves on after felling one of Bledrann\'s men as he passed the gate, and catches up to the others that charged the infiltrators in black. As they slip and slide on the pebbles scattered over the steps, the Kavanagh Bear swats at a thrown dagger, barely noticing as it leaves a bloody gash on his bare arm. (Or is that Bear arm?)

\"Wulf cowards, come down and fight with honor!\" He looks up at Desmond, challenging the man, \"Kiern doesn\'t favor those that win with tricks and throw dinner knives, weakling!\"

The rain of arrows does its work. In the bottleneck at the gates, Wulf stumble and slip, and their charge is slowed. Yet enough men have made it through by now that individual combats are taking place within the confines of the Keep. Spear and sword meet axe and club, and once more the courtyard rings with clash of metal, as though Kiern\'s smith were busy at his anvil. One fellow, green-tuniced, lies in the lee of a barrel clutching at the shaft of an arrow sunk deep in his chest. Another cries out as his foot slips in a pool of Bear blood a single heavy downstroke of a club silences him and reveals that his own flows just as red.

Bledrann does not seem in the mood for conversation tonight, despite Irvin\'s best attempts. A couple of quick steps have take him back out of range as he closes again he boasts, \"I answer questions only with my blade.\" He feints toward the Bear\'s side again, but when the sword flickers out it past his raised buckler and towards Irvin\'s axe-arm that it flashes.

[Desmond(#19982)] \"Hagan make sure the gatehouse is held and that THAT gate stays open.\" He points now down channel which the men of Wulf funnel through. Giving a silent salute to his Fian, the master scout now turns to return within the structure. The Fian himself now rases his longsword and walks very carefully down the stairs towards his challenger.

\"Wulf cowards, eh Bear? You act as if using hostages as a meat shield against my men is some sort of bravery!\" Arriving finally at the bottom of the stare, the Fian looks coldy upon the clansman of Bear.

\"You shall be nothing but a feast for the crows by the time I\'m done with you.\" And with that he swings his blade out at Dirgan\'s mid driff, his experience telling him that a belly wound spells a short end to any foe.

[Finnian(#23897)] Dirgin responds with a scowl, \"Open taking of hostages is nothing compared to treachury through poison and cheap tricks.\" He waves his hand at the pebbles spilled over the steps. \"But we shall battle with honor now!\" As Desmond swings at him, Dirgin brings the spiked club down and intercepts the stroke, a few splinters of wood flying away as blade hits it. Then the large man roars again and shoves forward, trying to push Desmond back and off-balance. If that works, a swing of the club is quick to follow.

[Desmond(#19982)] The Fian is a large man, and though the shove makes contact with Desmond it appears as if it will only cause him to take a step or two back. But looks can be deceiving as while he is stepping back, his foot lands on one of his very own pebbles and his legs shortly come out from underneath him. With a THUD against the hard stone and a groan from the man who has just taken the tumble, things suddenly look grim for Desmond.

The Fian is expereinced however and as such only fractions of a second after groaning does he then begin to roll side ways, attemtping to avoid any possible incoming blows. His goal is simple. Put enough distance between Dirgin and himself that he might be able to stand again.

[Finnian(#23897)] Dirgin swings at Desmond, but already the Wulf Fian is rolling out of the way. The Bear assailant is hot in pursuit, but also has the slippery ground to contend with, and that slows his progress. He doesn\'t risk swinging again on such unsteady feet.

[Irvin(#15443)]

The initial downpour of death taper to a drizzle as Bear archers are quickly engulfed by the sheer number and ferocity of the Wulf army. One by one they fall, though every Bear bravely continue to fight until one last arrows flies high into the sky, as if carrying the spirits of the warriors to Kiern.

\"Good answer. But tell me just this one thing, young Wulf. Do you know of the lad who rescued the prisoners?\" He winces as the quick flash of his blade leave a trail of red on his tired forearm, but the larger man does not attack, choosing to defend. Perhaps he is conserving what little energy he has for the killing strike.

[Desmond(#19982)] It appears that he is given his moment, as the Fian is then able to return to his feet even if they not exactly standing on firm ground. Grinning at this now and then the man with the spiked club, Desmond begins to walk back away from the pebble ground in an attempt to draw Dirgin to ground with more friction. \"Come Bear. This time your sleep this coming Winter will be eternal.\"

As soon as he has gotten far enough away from the spilt pebbles, the Fian swings again, this time at the man sword arm using a side ways slash.

If the Wulf looked for direction from Bledrann, they are to be sorely disappointed, for the young man is focused entirely on the shedding of his opponent\'s blood. A couple of Wulf spearmen, though, had the intelligence to circle round the edge of the courtyard, using what cover they may, in a bid to take down the archers. Once the last Bear arrow is spent, the Wulf seek other targets, and many turn toward the Keep proper.

Not so Bledrann. When his second stroke reaches its target uncontested, the beginnings of a frown turn down the corners of his mouth, and the battle-madness fades from his gaze a little. He does not answer Irvin\'s question, for he has one of his own. \"Why do you not fight, Bear? Do you wish to die honourless, a coward and weakling in the eyes of Kiern and of men? Come on, show me your strength!\" Thus taunting, he lets his feet carry him round his the other man in a careful arc, buckler always before him. This time the sword-blade licks out warily toward Irwin\'s right side. Perhaps as he faces this man who is seemingly so ready to be cut down, Bledrann feels the beginnings of fear.

[Finnian(#23897)] Dirgin is more than happy to escape the treacherous ground and walks after Desmond with hot anger. \"If I sleep, I do so with Kiern and the honor that I shed Wulf blood!\" He rushes at the man with his own weapon swinging down, even as Desmond\'s sword lashes in to cut a deep gash in his side. This score does little to slow the momentum of Dirgin\'s spiked bludgeoning weapon as it bears down at the Fian.

[Irvin(#15443)]

The Bear are down to two men: Irvin and Dirgan.

Amidst the field of complete and total defeat, the older Bear continue to square off with the young Fian of Wulf. Fatigue must be searing ever inch of his body but Irvin does not show it.

\"I ask again, what became of the lad who released prisoner?\"

He deflects the blow and again, returns to his defense stance.

\"Better,\" is Bledrann\'s comment as he he staggers under the force of Irvin\'s parry. He recovers his stance quickly, though, moving back a pace or two so that he can regain his breath. His movements are slowing also, though he remains fresher than his opponent. \"He\'s safe in good company. Doubtless he\'s on top of the situation.\"

Perhaps he is tiring of this unresisting opponent, for this time he does not dance round Irvin for a side blow. Instead he lunges forward, trying to send the tip of his blade straight toward the other\'s heart, armour or no.

[Irvin(#15443)]

A calm settles over the face of the old Bear warrior at Bledrann\'s answer.

\"Thank you, lad.\"

That would be the last time Bledrann would see of Irvin\'s serene, civil expression. In the next instant, he fights, as if possessed by the spirit of the colossal monster that strike fear into the hearts of those who enter the woods.

Dodging the incoming blow, Irvin shoots out the butt end of his enormous axe to pulverize Bledrann\'s skull, or leave a axe handle sized hole on his forehead.

[Desmond(#19982)] Smiling broudly at wound inflicted upon the large Bear, the Fian is taken off guard as the spiked mace bites down through his leather and into his flesh. Growling now, the man of Wulf thrusts his blade out at Dirgin\'s stomach, hoping to impale the man upon his blade. \"My face will be the last thing you see, Bear. The crows hunger and my patience grows thin!\"

[Finnian(#23897)] Dirgin tries to step back away from the biting blade that Desmond stabs at him, but his large girth makes movement slow. He gives a low grunt as it sinks into his abdomen, but still stands, remarkably. No words come forth from the older man. The club is swept upward now, aimed for Demond\'s sword-arm as he tries to knock it aside.

With the courtyard near-empty of living Bear, and despite the absence of direction from their leaders, the Wulf begin to enter the Keep. An old fellow with a spear seems to be in charge, and he has the men form up ranks before pushing open the door. Cautiously at first, and then more speedily as no resistance is encountered, Wulf\'s army moves to secure the Keep.

Bledrann, alas, cannot be at their head. Caught off-guard by just how fast the Bear moves - how /can/ a man be in two places at once? - Bledrann does not escape the blow of the axe-haft, which rings loud upon the metal of his helmet. Dazed, the young Fian stands stock-still for a moment, his sword-arm lowering almost of its own volition, but in that instant of shock between stroke and crippling pain instinct takes over and the sword thrusts forward again. No longer is it level with Irvin\'s heart instead it is held /much/ lower.

[Desmond(#19982)] Letting out a cry of pain as the older man knocks aside his longsword, the Fian is furious at the blow to his pride. So much so in fact that he now draws the large dagger from his side once more at jumps at the man, attempting to thrust the dagger into Dirgin\'s neck while he barely is able to maintain a hold of his longsword. \"Die, beast!\" Hate has risen to the front of the man\'s emotions and now his body seeks a form of release.

[Irvin(#15443)]

Perhaps it was witnessing Desmond\'s blade sinking into the stomach of his friend that caused Irvin to surge forward. Whatever it was, the motion was untimely, and Irvin finds himself in the same predicament as his friend: impaled in the gut by the blade of his enemy.

[Finnian(#23897)] Dirgin smiles in grim triumph when the sword is knocked away, but it pulls the blade free of his flesh and hot blood is soaking heavily into his tunic now. It\'s a stark contrast to the crisp pre-winter air. As Desmond springs forward, the old Bear tries to lift the spiked club up to put between himself and his opponent, but his strength is swiftly spilling from the deep wounds.

Desmond\'s dagger sinks wetly into his throat, bringing an involuntary gurgle of pain from the Kavanagh warrior and the Fian\'s impact bears the dying Bear down to the ground, splaying him on his back as more blood gushes from multiple wounds.

\"Kiern..\" He gasps, then the man fades from this life.

Irvin\'s enemy cannot, alas, take advantage of the stroke. Bledrann\'s hand still grips the sword, its knuckles white, but his knees are giving way. Slowly the young man crumples forward over the blade, his grip slackening.

It is at this moment that one of the Wulf spearmen emerges from the Keep. \"Fian! They\'ve found that pig-greaser Badoan -- dead. Fian?\" The words trail off as he takes in the scene in the courtyard, and his gaze slips past the bodies splayed across it, some in red and some in green and some marked by the insignia of neither, to pause uncertainly on Desmond.

[Desmond(#19982)] The Fian gasps for breath now after exerting so much forth in his dagger blow. Letting the blade slip from his hand as is it collaspses with Dirgin\'s fresh corpse, the Fian now turns back to the battle - or what is left of it. As the Wulf spearmen emerges from the Keep, Desmond now takes on a more commanding attitude, his pain forgotten for the moment. \"Have the body brought out of the Keep. We shall leave it for the crows. Have all the corpses brought out and buried in a mass grave. They are not worthy enough to be burned. Except this one. A Bear who is capable of wounded a Fian is deserving enough of the flames.\"

Rasing his unwounded shoulder and arm now in a clenched fist, he shouts to his men. \"Redvyrne is ours!\"

[Irvin(#15443)]

As his youthful enemy pitches forward, the old Bear didn\'t even have enough life left in him to take one more swing at Bledrann. Or did he?

Irvin takes his final moments to look up at the sky, at the dawn that is breaking. He crumples to his knees, and he too pitches forward, never to rise again.

Bledrann remains unmoving beneath Irwin\'s weight, yet in a moment that weight is lifted off him and the young Fian is dragged free. \"There\'s still a pulse,\" the fellow stooped over him reports. \"Thank Kiern! Would /you/ want to be the one to break it to the old woman?\"

Slowly and hesitantly at first, but then with renewed vigour, the Wulf take up the refrain. \"Redvyrne is ours!\"

The silence that follows is broken by the whimper of a wounded man, the clatter of a spear-butt, the soft thud of a body tumbling down the stairs that lead to the walls. It will be a long time before the Wulf can claim that feast Bledrann promised them - but Redvyrne has been won! Long months of rebuilding lie ahead, but there is not one heart still beating that does not rejoice.