3rd Battle of Alẋtśaq
9th of Pax, 1611
(theme music if anybody wants to enhance the experience: [https://youtu.be/Tnmnt81tTAI], [https://youtu.be/hddPu8NzDLg])
Word of what happened at the ruins of Ürol would reach the Stone Emperor of Kalat, Xatras II, and the following destruction of Yahar and Ghodan. Although he recognized it not, he knew deep inside that it was too late. Already by the next day reports were coming of an army so large the steel helms shone brighter than the sun from afar in the sands and of villages surrendering en masse or burning for days, their inhabitants entirely massacred. He had to act decisively if he wished to save part of his realm; messages to Thumaz IV of Thuhaq were sent to arrange an alliance and strike at what they thought were the undefended camps and bands of the Eastern Dzeii.
In the month and a half of time they had left, the Thuhaqi and Kalati monarchs amassed several armies to rival that of the Dze, under the command of a Kalati noble of witty mind and mighty skill, Qhagharis Zufhan, forty thousand men marched towards the Alẋtśaq valley. Twice the Thuhaqi had fought there, twice they had failed; scouts reported no soldiers for a day's length of marching and the thundering Dze horde seemed to be too far away for it to stop their campaign, they had been, however, decieved. A contingent of twenty-thousand of the best warriors the Dze had branched off from the main army, the Tsǫt'aan at their helm, while the rest contended with a secondary army of Kalati that approached the mountain valleys they were beginning to cross.
The army of Zufhan would approach the valley in formation, for they lacked the cavalry necessary to raid en masse, approaching what they thought to be three Dze camps a few kilometres apart each when, at last, the vanguard of the Dze catched up with them, two thousand strong, appearing atop the nearby hills. The general would call a meeting before deciding on a move, on one hand two thousand cavalrymen seemed little compared to a force twenty times larger, but he also knew not to underestimate the Dze after reports of their victories in the past two years. It would be decided that they should keep marching towards the valley, being sheltered, or so they thought, by the surrounding hills.
March they would, but after an hour it looked as if the Dze camps had spotted them and had begun to rush to flee, clouds of dust forming as they took to their mounts and dismantled their tents. Knowing they had not another chance to strike so deep inside the Dze heartland undetected, at last would Zufhan order his cavalry, six thousand in number, to charge towards the camps in hopes of at least inflicting damage there as the infantry began to trot as well to not be separated for that long a distance. After a few minutes the cavalry of Zufhan created such a cloud in the wake of their rush that they were unseen to the rest of the army, blindly following the trail of dust and it was then when powerful drums and horns sounded in the distance as bellowing war cries and damning screeches were heard as the vanguard of the Dze, hidden in the hills, struck at their enemy cavalry's flank, quickly overpowering them as they were pincered and unable to escape; arrow, mace, axe, spear and sword struck as the Tsǫt'aan and his guards carved the bloodiest of paths, in his eyes shone not just the glitter of the stars, but the fire of rage and he laughed as he struck, reciting chants of old as men after men fell before his blade and were trampled by those who followed him.
The infantry would've heard such commotion as a few survivors went back, but the clouds of dust blinded and engulfed them, knowing not from were the enemy would come they made a defensive line facing the dust, yet then from alien screeching and the screams of damned soldiers, they only heard strange clicks and guttural sounds accompanying thundering hooves and then whistling arrows, serrated and bodkin, flew towards them, catching men by the neck and face, few were the arrows of the first volley to miss a target. Screams of the wounded were only made worse by the appearing of a secondary dust cloud behind them, at first bringing hope to the general, thinking it may be reinforcements, until the speed of the cloud revealed they had been trapped. In a last ditch effort he would shorten the line and command an orderly retreat, all wounded were left behind as breaking the shield wall meant more death.
The main force of Dze came behind them and then it split in half, avoiding the shield wall like a flock of birds evades a tree, but their screams and war cries were nontheless heard as they too flung arrows and slings at the enemy, their arrows aiming at head, knee and shields as their serrations caused splinters to pierce the arm of he who wielded the shield. Three volleys from all sides followed as the dust clouds dissipated and then, like the mounted archers' movements, engulfed them like the eye of a hurricane; three volleys struck at them, the plumed death being shot above the wall, hitting those in the lines further back and then they began to slow down, change formation and charge at the weakened shield wall as a gap was left open and men broke formation to seek their salvation and return to their homelands. A fourth volley, shot by the mounted men behind the vanguard, would crash against the first line of defense, causing a shock and distracting them from the thundering warriors before them as they approached them. The ensuing melee would all but annihilate the defenses as the Dze horses and their dagger-like side hooves pierced the men's legs and spears, maces and swords slashed throat, bashed skull and pierced chests as they went, stragglers being crushed under the weight of the Dze cavalry.
In desperation, Zufhan would coordinate a retreat through the gap as men fled in all directions, salvaging naught but a few dozen cavalrymen and a few hundred men, while being forced to sacrifice the rest as they were chased like wild animals through the steppe, a disgraceful end. By the time the sun had set, the esteemed general would begin to make his way back to Kalat's hold, wounded and his force crushed, while the Dze piled up the corpses and left them to rot as scavengers began to make a feast of their flesh while the Dze celebrated in their own before quickly going south along the mountains to join their bretheren. Zufhan's only hope would be that the southern armies succeeded and that the Thuhaq's own forces were nearby his position, unaware that they had also been sent south.
Battle of Hulgar
14th to 15th of Pax, 1611
(theme music if anybody wants to enhance the experience: [https://youtu.be/8skyE5SKv4U], [https://youtu.be/gL3ObX3YVDI])
While word of the north had not arrived, a force of fifty thousand marched along the edges of the Greater Southern Range under the command of the Thuhaqi king. They were to defend a pass in the mountains from where the Dze could arrive, some four kilometres from their current position, and block their path at any cost, unaware that they had already crossed the path and many more to the north of the army's location. Night would settle in and the lookouts of the Thuhaqi camp would see flickering lights moving at fast paces from the mountain passes and distant war cries, they were too late.
Joined by the victors of the northern battle, a force of a hundred thousand Dze descended on the camp, their harrowing screams piercing the ears of those brave or stupid enough to face them. Scrambling for formations, Thumaz's army desperately tried to form a quick line of defence, flaming arrows would incinerate tents and create clouds of smoke and nearby bush, burning alive those who were unlucky enough to still be waking up. As the fire passed and the men formed up they would be greeted only by distant hooves and then the cold, absolute silence of the night. The Dze would not attack them in the dark, yet arrows would fly still towards them as they retreated, their trick working to perfection.
With the rise of the sun the tired, cold and paranoid men of Thumaz would then finally be charged at with the first rays of light not coming from the west, but from the reflections on Dze steel, a triangle-shaped line would be formed by the Thuhaqi in order to force the Dze to crash like a wave at them, yet they would split, attacking the edges of the line and forcing the re-arranging as the flanks desperately held on against the onslaught, twenty thousand cavarlymen pounding at them like the hawks of heaven, the front heading towards the rear to avoid encirclement. It would be in the ensuing melee that a horn would be heard from the west as a second horde of Dze charged at them; having divided their numbers after the night assault, they would engulf their enemies, the Tsǫt'aan dismounting and charging at them with vengeance in his eyes and the wrath only thought fit for the divine. Challenging Thumaz to a duel, he would quickly overpower the cowering king and his retinue by himself, axe and falx in hand he cleaved and tore off limb and chunks in migthy strikes as his masked face only showed the terrible eyes of his wrath, horrifying to behold. At last would he slay the king and his line, destroying at last his original enemies after nearly sixty years, he would scream in joyful mood as he raised the head of the fallen king to a thundering crowd, Dze warriors cheering and chanting as the last resistance fell and only the retreating remained, however this time they would be allowed to join Zufhan, let the word spread, the Dze had other plans for them.
For a week the survivors of the battle, numbering a few dozen hundred, would join Zufhan's battered force and report the death of the Thuhaqi king and the disaster of the battle. The small force would keep marching south and eastwards, fleeing raiding parties as they went until at last they reached Kalut's hold, bringing news of the battles to the city .
Battle of Shashti
25th of Pax, 1611
(theme music if anybody wants to enhance the experience: [https://youtu.be/jcDYB691sM4], [https://youtu.be/Lcxlq0x54cI])
A week passed and at last Xatras II heard of the failures of his general and his ally, the alliance having failed to contain the Dze in the mountains and the Kalati populace in panic after hearing of the harrowing accounts of the battles, it was clear this was a calculated invasion and not the work of barbarians. The emperor, camping near the southern edges of the mountains, would begin to move northeast to try and see if his army, numbering over a hundred thousand, could catch him, dispatching fifteen thousand of these, comprising half of his cavalry, to act as a vanguard and see if they could force the Dze into a confrontation with him while he hoped another army of fifty thousand and those he was raising could join up with him and try to hold them back.
The cavalry force would stride northwards with haste, having heard of a force of twenty thousand human auxiliaries was still crossing one of the mountain valleys and so would attempt what the Dze had done to their northern armies. The sun shone almost cloudless for a moment, though a grey coat covered the north, and the Kalati cavalry could see the mannish auxiliaries marching towards them, a collection of dozens of different groups under one banner, unified not under fear, but under genuine alliance and comradery. As the cavalry force split, the more attentive could see formations of heavy spearmen, like the famous Mong Lak Phalanx moving up front while lighter detachments covered the second line. Banners blew with a boreal wind and the cavarly sounded the trumpets to charge.
The mannish infantry would see this movement and switch from a line to a circular shield, aware that their enemy lacked archers they formed a perimetre of lances around themselves as their own archers began firing at the enemy. The ground shook and yet they would stand firm, behind the rows of shield and spear, javelins, slings and arrows were being prepared for firing as the cavarly approached...closer...closer...closer, until a whistling sound pierced the sky and projectiles flow as the cavalry crashed like a wave into the shield wall, horses impaled on contact, their riders killed from impact or the butchering that would follow. For what would seem their longest minutes in their lifes, the line would held firm, if weakened still, until they slowly began advancing in coordination as heavy infantry filled the gaps as the circle expanded, armed with maces, halberds and axes they would chop away at the stalled cavalry, killing riders and freightening mounts to force them to flee and trample those behind them.
A most brutal of melee followed as many a Kalati rider dismounted and began charging on foot instead of letting such a charge be wasted, hoping that the encirclement would be enough to swarm them. As horses fled the scene en masse, they would be captured by nearby Dze or Kalati scouting parties, with the former sending them to the tribes nearby to release them to the wilds beyond their lands to the southern hitherlands, and the latter realizing the aftermath of what would befall the Kalati cavalry. For it was in desperation that they failed to realize that they lacked the numbers to press onwards and they would retreat, on foot or horse, with the battle lost after an hour or so of fighting, casualties being lighter than those of other battles. Those fallen on the Dze's allies side were noted down, cremated, whilst the enemy bodies were left there, with the auxiliaries letting their main force deal with them in their own fashion.
After this string of battles would all of the Dze hosts join together once more, marching towards the Thuhaqi lands, burning all that stood in arms against them, most fleeing to the Kalati Empire, entire cities deserted and left for the elements as the fall of the kingdom was all but cemented. The Tsǫt'aan would enter the halls of the once proud Thuhaqi rulers, the same halls he once was showcased in as a captive of war, he would declare that after the war it would all be left to the spirits to cleanse, the treasures of the land would be beheld by the divine for a ritualistic period of cleansing of 20 years, so would end the history of Thuhaq.
Battle of Bloody Sands
30th of Pax, 1611
(theme music if anybody wants to enhance the experience: [https://youtu.be/Tnmnt81tTAI], [https://youtu.be/QXu5loryutM])
For five days would the Dze hosts march and slowly unite until at last, near the shores of the Bight sea would they coalesce into a mighty host once more. But at last had Xatras II catched up to them, a force of even greater number than the Dze's at his helm, two hundred thousand infantry and fifty thousand cavalry marching by his banner. Using the flatlands the shores were home to, both sides could stretch over kilometres. The traditional encircling tactics would not work for the Dze...the enemy was slowly approaching them, infantry at the centre and cavalry at the sides, the Tsǫt'aan would think quickly and as the enemy still stood a kilometre away would he organize all of his cavalry into a spearhead shape, mounted archers and infantry remaining as decoys. As the enemy approached, the mannish allies would hurl projectiles and retreat under cover of tall shields as mounted archers pierced the unaware and the unlucky as they slowly withdrew further and further; the main force of the Dze, a hundred thousand strong, would go to the right flank and wait for the command.
For over an hour would the Kalati advance, enduring the hurling of arrows, by the end would the emperor order his own cavalry to charge as the infantry exhausted itself from the constant marching. This was their chance, the left charge halted by the mannish auxiliaries and the right baited into charging the mounted archers as the main body of Dze cavalry began their counter-charge, smashing the unaware right flank and moving with the aid of the massive dust clouds the Kalati cavalry formed and the left flank was held firm by mannish spear and tall shield. Right as the infantry began to recover, their left flank was stuck and their right blinded by dust, until the screaming war cries appeared and the Dze marched past the infantry, arrows and axes flying against them, as the left flank stopped their assault and rushed to the right to prevent the worst, yet it would be of no avail as the emperor realized his failures and ordered a retreat before it was too late.
The infantry would be harrassed for many an hour as it pulled back, however the right flank would all but vanish as many footmen failed to escape in time and were slaughtered. A sea of blood would begin trickling down to the sand on the shores and the sea, the Dze would pursue the retreating forces for a week until they pulled back, tens of thousands lay dead on the battlefield and the ensuing hunts the Dze so loved. The Tsǫt'aan would take ten thousand men and pursue after two days for them, seeking not to fight but to see where they were heading, for after the retreat the armies had temporarily splintered in a successful retreat, for most of the Dze were piling up the bodies of their enemies and cremating their own.
The battle had been a costly failure, over half of the cavalry dead, their infantry suffering similar loses in number, but the emperor had seen a taste of the Dzeii cunning and would retreat to the imperial capital, Kalat's Hold, to see if he could force the Dze into his own rules, but he had not heard of the pursuin vanguard that had been watching over them, soon it would be his end.
Battle at Kalat's Hold
9th to 11st of Primo, 1612
(theme music if anybody wants to enhance the experience: [https://youtu.be/E1nJwiVU06c])
Gates opened in a rush to the sight of the emperor and his guard while his army camped around the city, a sea of tents on all sides. Not even four days after would the surviving scouts alert of the approach of the Dze horde, almost entirely intact after the last battle. The emperor knew he could not force a victory even in siege, his forces demoralized. He resolved to retreat past the Great River further to the east, hoping the Dze would spare his capital and pursue him, trapping them; a garrison of ten thousand would guard the city to cover his retreat as his forces crossed the river.
Two days after would the Dze banners be spotted on the north-west, the entire host arriving within hours and standing before the city, appearing like a mighty obstacle they could circumvent or conquer. War engines would be quickly built by the Dze, great catapults, at the sight of the defenders and seemingly defenseless on the plains before the city with the horde seemingly off to pursue the emperor and lost upon a mighty dust cloud, their camp appearing deserted, a tempting target which the garrison decided to destroy as they stormed out of the gates and, yet, fooled they were again, for many Dze had turned off the campfires and hidden in their tents, awaiting their enemy to take the bait.
Right as they were reaching the siege engines, Dze would storm out of their camp, armoured and battle-ready, striking at the flank of the garrison as the main army would then begin turning back, their pursue a fake one and they would begin their march back to their camp. A fierce battle ensued as the Kalati were taken aback by their enemy and tried to retreat back to the city once knowing of their decievement, yet where the Dze hit the hardest was right by the city walls and they were approaching the gates and their cavalry drew closer and closer. A final push for the city would be made and the gates were closed before the Dze could enter, yet it came at the sacrifice or death of over half the garrison as the cavalry arrived. The Kalati then readied for a siege and yet it never came, no ladders on sight nor siege towers or rams, only the siege engines pointed above the wall until two days later they would see activity from the camp yet it would not be stones nor flaming hell they unleashed, it was a far worse sight; for it was the heads of the fallen that rained upon the city, their defaced and desecrated, maimed and bloodied.
Panic engulfed the city as the horrorizing sight brought despair to those that had not fled, for thirty minutes they flew past the wall these horrorizing projectiles until at last would death approach the city as flaming stones began to be loaded into the engines, fires spreading across the city as the garrison nothing could do to stop it. For an hour it went on until the city, mightiest of all capitals in human history, fell. The garrison was spared along with whoever survived, being allowed to give up their weapons and flee south. This would be the fate of many a Kalati city after word spread, untold tens of thousands leaving in terror as roaming bands of Dze raiders then sprouted from the city, thousands at a time, chasing off those who resisted and looking for the emperor's army. Two weeks they searched, crossing the Eastern One and at last forcing an encounter with the last great army opposing them, the last resistance to the Dze.
Battle of the Hidden Sun
29th of Primo, 1612
(theme music if anybody wants to enhance the experience: [https://youtu.be/a9S4bRD2ado])
A clear day with no clouds would be the spectator to the greatest battle in the history of these lands, nearly two hundred Dze and mannish allies against two hundred Kalati infantry and cavalry across a massive steppeland with no barriers for each side to exploit, the battle for the fate of either species in this land. The massive Kalati line stretched for over a kilometre as the Dze dismounted and began to slowly approach the enemy line. The trumpets of the cavalry were heard as a flanking maneuver was expected, yet the Dze line was thicker at the flanks and it weathered the charge of the Kalati cavalry, brutally pushing forwards and keeping up with the centre, which remained unphased and did not press forward.
As the cavalry charge stalled and they began to lose momentum, a retreat would be ordered as the Kalati and Dze lines met, equal in length, the centre would stop advancing and force the Kalati to charge at them while the Dze flank plunged forwards in an aggressive fashion. A detachment of twenty-thousand Dze in the rear would then mount again and cover the flanks for any further cavalry charges as the lines met, the Dze centre seemingly being pushed further and further away, yet their flanks were now beyond the line of contact in the centre. Realizing this too late, a secondary cavalry charge would be ordered only to be met by a counter charge, routing the cavalry and demoralizing the Kalati flanks, which fled in all directions as the Dze cavalry chased off all those who escaped and then, unknowing to all, the sky suddenly darkened as an eclipse covered the lands, the Dze taking it as an omen of victory they would fight with even more ferocity as the Kalati army was confused and harrowed by the death of the sun. The encirlcement had begun.
As the centre was held by Heavy Dze Infantry and their mannish auxiliaries they would stop moving backwards as the reinforced flanks began to encircle the enemy, which realized far too late their situation and were now trapped. Encircled by what was by now a larger force they would be slowly chipped away at for hours as the emperor stood at the centre, trying to coordinate his forces. The Dze would then use tall shields and rows of spears to keep pushing forward, out of contact with the enemy, as they were pressured further and further, the fallen being crushed under the weight of squished men until the Dze cavalry returned, drawing their bows and firing volley after volley, the circle tightening further and further until an improvised charge seemingly began to force the spear wall back, opening a gap.
Xatras II would attempt to keep his men in line and yet a discoordinated mass of men began to flee through the gap, trampling eachother in a chaos as the encircled forces were squished in a space slightly larger than a hundred metres across. Trampled and strewn about corpses would begin to fill the gap as the escape became more and more desperate, a wall of bodies filling the role of the spearmen as further gaps were intentionally open, only for the Kalati themselves to close them as bodies began to pile up, suffocating any previously wounded and any who escaped chased by cavalry. So would continue the battle for the entirety of the day until at last the entire force was massacred; the emperor and a few hundred more would attempt a daring, final escape across a fake gap until the Tsǫt'aan himself arrived there, slaying the emperor and all who stood before him as he let out a war cry for ever enemy felled by his sword or axe.
None would survive the battle nor its aftermath, for the dreaded hunt of the survivors began as mounted archers tracked down retreating soldiers. For weeks would the eastern human kingdoms burn as the war was finally over and the Dze rejoiced, many a city deserted even before they arrived, settlements burned, their foundations tore down and their wealth scattered, deemed accursed and left for the elements to claim inside the smoldering ruins that now covered the landscape. Clouds of smoke filled the west, south and east as the wave of destruction that swept the land for two years came to an end.
Bands of Dze would return to their tribes, bringing word of those who fell in battle with the urns containing their individual ashes and crates of plunder hailed back to the lands, spiritually cleansed by the mountains upon their return, an offering to the families of the dead. In a few months would the next Tsǫdzuń take place to decide what to do with the now almost entirely deserted enemy lands, while bands of warriors would remain patrolling them, making sure those who managed to fled would not dare return to their lands.
Millions would flee, hundreds of thousands had perished and entire kingdoms emptied of their inhabitants. The final victory of the Dze was crushing and complete, none would come to invade the lands now, for none remained to try as piles of corpses amounted upon battle sites. An era of peace would follow, an age of ten thousand years of glory under the light of the sun, moon and stars and the watchful eye of the spirits.
