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This is my first story that I ever made. I go by several usernames: SkyDog/SkyDog13, Captain/Capn Ahab, and Demo-Dude. But my username on Taleworlds is KillerDudeMan (I know right). Enjoy!

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The Battle of the Mist

King Yaroglek, Boyar Kumipa, and Boyar Vlan were marching their combined army of 600 men on patrol of the border between the Vaegirs and the Nords. The war between them was a fierce one and a long one. They had been marching for several days nonstop and the men were totally exhausted, so they stopped by a huge lake. The next morning, there was a great fog and the Vaegirs could barely see 20 feet in front of them. They were just eating breakfast as arrows came soaring into the camp out of the fog, killing or wounding two scores of men. After two more volleys, the arrows stopped and the Vaegirs formed ranks with the lake behind them. Fear consumed them as nothing happened for several minutes, that was exactly Jarl Turya’s plan. Turya had gotten together the best group of huscarls and expert archers in the whole Calradia. He had also gotten about 30 mercenary cavalry which he had placed to smash into the side of the Vaegirs. He had personally trained every man in his army. He yelled to his archers, “LOOSE!!!”

Vlan was scared, that much was true, but he kept a cool head. He ordered the marksmen to fire into the fog. Just as he gave the order, he heard a voice come booming through the fog with Nordic arrows following. This time the Vaegirs were ready, but not all of them were quick enough. Vaegirs collapsed to the ground with arrows protruding from every possible place. After six more volleys, the volleys stopped and the Vaegirs reformed their ranks. The enemy was toying with them, playing with them as a cat with a mouse before he devours it. Suddenly out of the mist came the Nords, a 100 of them and all huscarls. They came screaming their war cries and wearing little to no armor. Vlan was about to charge to the front lines with his cavalry, but was hit in the chest with an axe that one of the Nords had hurled. All went black.

Turya had ordered the charge and his army was in fierce combat with the Vaegirs. One of the Vaegir command had been killed already. Why did the commanders make themselves so obvious, atop their great colorful warhorses? They were easy targets. He watched as his infantry slaughtered the Vaegirs. He heard the terrified screams of the Vaegirs before they fell. Agonizing yells covered the battlefield. But the Vaegirs were beginning to reform their ranks and began taking down the huscarls. Turya ordered the archers to “Let ‘em go.”

Kumipa had dismounted his horse and was rallying his men as his “great lord” ran for his life. He had watched Vlan keel over dead on his horse with an axe in his chest. Finally the battle was turning and the Nords were being hard pressed. Then suddenly, a sergeant said, “Look to the skies!” Every Vaegir put his shield above his head immediately to protect from the arrows, but instead of the clang of the steel tip hitting the shield, there were thuds. Then heads rolled off the Vaegir shields. Every Vaegir yelled out in shock and terror. These were the heads of the men that the Vaegirs had slaughtered under Boyar Khavel’s command at the Battle of Wercheg. Even the stalwart Kumipa was greatly shaken by this and threw up. The fall of heads on the enemy didn’t stop for at least five minutes. New recruits shook in their boots before being mercilessly hacked down by a huscarl. Screams of pain and surprise came from the left flank. Kumipa saw at least 30 horsemen slam into the Vaegirs defending the flank. Then he saw the Jarl Turya charge with his personal bodyguard of Nordic berserkers. He knew that all was lost and that he could run away, but he wanted to comfort his men in their last moments.

Turya and his men slaughtered nearly every Vaegir, and all that weren’t wounded or dead had tried to swim across the great lake, but their armor was drowning them. The archers took care of those in the lake. As Turya surveyed the casualties, he found one of the Boyars sitting up staring around with a score of dead huscarls surrounding him. He walked over to him and asked his name, “Kumipa” was the reply. “Well Kumipa, where’s Yaroglek?”
“The coward fled for his life,” said Kumipa dejectedly.
“I see,” said Turya. “You may return to your home. I never imprison those who fight courageously. You fought well today. I have never seen a single man take down 20 of my huscarls.”
“Thank you,” said Kumipa. He respected this Nord. Never had he seen such great tactics. He returned to Revyadin as the only survivor of the Battle of the Mist. He told great tales of bravery on both sides of the battle and told all of the cowardice of King Yaroglek.

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