[ R ] Mohaç Meydan Savaşı[Hungry/Turkey]

[sadiqadnan]

August 29, 1526
11:00 AM
The Outskirts of Mohács

A hand rose up to stop the entire Ottoman army behind him. There it was.. their battlefield. Their home or their grave. Proud, Sadiq stood in front of the crowd with the very large crested flag flying majestically in the wind. It was a message to the, obviously, comfortable Hungarian army. "Are those tents?" Green eyes narrowed on the little man-made huts and simply frowned. They had just climbed a mountain to find that their enemy was simply waiting for them in tents. Oh-- What a hard life to have. A roll of the eyes and Sadiq was turning around to see his sultan sitting on top of his horse and adorned with many different royal colors that would fool anyone. Beautiful and distracting, that was the objective.

"I hate it already." Tired and exhausted eyes stared across the battlefield to their opposing enemy. They were mocking them with their tents and luxuries for every single soldier they had. Emerald green eyes looked over a broad shoulder to see their own army. Fatigue and starvation through the entire ranks but no one-- not even the sultan-- was going to eat. Victory took everything, even the ambition of the powerful empire but not this time. Sadiq was ready for anything the silly Hungarians had to throw at them.

Sadiq slowly lifted his boots to stare at the mud-caked bottom. Disgusting. They HAD to pick a place like this for a noble battle? Hopefully, it was a joke; it surely had to. "It's been years since Nándorfehérvár. Perhaps, this'll be a little easier. Mohács is just right over there but they choose this pathetic place. Sad really. I don't know of the children could handle it." Suleiman whispered to the country. Sadiq smirked softly as he leaned into his Sultan, lips just barely opening to speak but the sultan spoke up first, "I want this State."

A soft snicker left the empire, eyes closed from behind that mask of his and a pat to the horses strong neck. "It's yours." No sleep, no food, and nothing that would make his army comfortable. They needed to be raw and ready for the fight against those weak pests.

"DO YOU UNDERSTAND!? We attack and kill! NO PRISONERS!" Sadiq yelled out over the very large crowd behind him. Yatagans and Kilijs were lifted in the air with a mighty roar booming behind him. Oh, that sinister look went beyond his mask. He wanted that little "boy" of a country crying, giving up everything "he" owned, and bowing down onto his knees to the more superior empire.

There was a light tap on his armor covered shoulder, making Sadiq tilt his head back to listen to his Captain. A nod made in response of the message then a quick turn of his slender body. Sadiq raised his own Yatagan to get the attention of the soldiers that could see him, "Rumelian first!" he announced and people were getting organized as fast as they could. Fear in the eyes of the front line but Sadiq didn't care. There was a promise and a pact he had to live up to.

Hungry was going to be his, even if it took one step at a time. First, a fort and now working his way deep inside to what they yearned for. Buda. That was his main goal so they could continue on through South-Eastern Europe and eventually.. the rest of it. Oh yes, it was a big strive but it was going to be worth it in the end.

[Hungary]

A young man stood outside of one of the tents, vivid green eyes peering over the horizen. The time had arrived, the Ottomans were just across the terrain, likely tired and half starved, yet they equaled many and despite the advantage of well rested troops, the Hungarians were vastly outnumbered.

Hungary bit his lower lip, brushing strands of silky honey hair behind an ear, free hand rested on his sword hilt. Now a knight of the Kingdom of Hungary, the boy was a handsome sight in light armor and green clothes. Taller now and still thin, yet smooth faced and innocent looking, almost somewhat feminine, however a strong body and strong resolve was hidden under less than intimidating features.

Hungary turned his head as he heard the rustle of the tent flap behind him. His Lord, the young King Louis the II of Hungary appeared, looking a bit weary, but it was half expected. Due to the disaster of the economical and political decline of Hungary and the fights amongst nobles, the young king was barely holding it together, his pleas to the nobles going ignored. His finances widdling away, putting more hampers on his already shrunken army. Things had gone downhill horrendously since the disbanding of the Black Army, and all of this was beginning to show on the young man's face.

Hungary reached out and held the flap open for his Lord, after his King stepped out next to him, Hungary bowed respectfully. He was a young and inexperienced, but a decent man and Hungary had been proud to serve his new Leige, though only a short ten years had passed, not even a dent in time for a Nation, though maybe a whole lifetime for a King.

"How are you feeling your Majesty?" Hungary asked, offering his King a reassuring smile.

Louis managed a faint smile, casting his gaze over the horizen as Hungary had been "Tired...and missing my wife terribly"

Hungary nodded, watching her King as he peered out at their enemy, "I'm sure she misses you as well sire..."

"Sir Héderváry...I wish for you to answer me truthfully..."

"My Lord!" Eli stood to attention, meeting Louis' gaze, the Kings lips pressed in a thin line.

"I know they outnumber us, and I know morale is fading. My money is almost depleted and Zápolya is too far away to bring us aid...Eli" the King's eyes darkened "Can we make it through this?"

Eli turned his head, the look in his Lord's eyes disturbed him but he deserved to know. "In all honesty your majesty" the boy returned the King's gaze, his smooth face drawn in a grim expression "It looks rather bleak."

Louis shut his eyes a moment, a sigh escaped his lips, but he understood these words to be true. "Tell me Eli....what should I do?"

Hungary sighed himself, his eyes closing as he collected his thoughts. What could he tell his King that would bring him comfort. The situation they faced was dire, he knew this, but he also knew they couldn't give up....not yet.

"We fight....we keep fighting and we protect whats precious to us." The King met Eli's gaze a bit taken aback, but impressed by this boys courage "We take to battle with the Lord's prayer and spill our blood for the sake of our sons and daughters..."

Louis managed a smile, a bit enboldened by his young Knight's statement. It was then they were approached buy the Priest-soldier Pál Tomori.

"Your majesty!" The Monk bowed "We've recieved word from our scouts. The Ottoman's are beginning to set up their camp. Let me take my men and lead the advance to the right. We stand an advantage if we can take them offguard."

The King looked to his Country, Eli returned his gaze, a fire blazing in the depts of his green eyes, the King looked back to Pál Tomori. "Ready your men. We'll take this chance to our advantage."

The monk nodded as he bowed "As you wish your majesty" he then left to begin readying his troops for attack.

Louis looked to Eli "I'll have word sent to Perenyi's left to ready for the advance. Prepare my horse"

"At once Highness!" Eli bowed, when he looked back up at Louis again he smiled "Do not fear what my come. Instead move forward and shape your own outcome. Stay behind me my Lord I will protect you and you may soon see your wife again" as Hungary turned to prepare the King's horse and ready the center flank. Louis smiled warmly. Perhaps things would turn well for them after all...

[sadiqadnan]

A very displeased look was on Sadiq's face as he stared across the battlefield at those tents. Pathetic! They were waiting around and it felt kind of insulting. Huff! His mask was adjusted out of annoyance until there was a light tap on his shoulder. It took a moment for Sadiq to even react but when he did, his lean body tilted to the side to listen to the messenger.

...

The Sultan REALLY wanted to do that? Make camp as they waited? Wasn't that going to distract them? The men behind the large empire shifted awkwardly, wanting to know the answer. It was between relaxation for even just a brief moment before dying or being completely exhausted during the battle. Could they just have a teeny tiny break?

A twitch was made as he thought. Give them time to set up their tents? Jeez. Why did the Sultan even ask him? That was pretty much pointless since the man had more authority over Sadiq. A quick nod was made to the messenger, quickly seeing a flash of a grin on the boy's face. Yes! A chance to sit and rub his sore feet! It was a big sigh of relief from the men behind Sadiq but as soon as he turned around, they snapped into place to instantly shut-up. The Persian wasn't someone to be on their bad side. "WELL--! GO." All of the soldiers scrambled around like ants, trying to go find their proper place to start setting up camp.

A horse "stable" was established easily and a few lowly servants took care of them while the artillery men got their things together. There wasn't much but it was enough to sit down comfortably. Sadiq had his own servant set of his Sultan's tent then his own while he stood at his spot that they all left him at. He wanted to fight. He wanted to slay those Hungarians and see their blood spill on his hands.

Sadiq's fingers were lightly rubbed by each other, making it look like the man was plotting some evil deed but it really wasn't. It was a yearning he had been feeling ever since they had started to climb those forsaken mountains. It was pretty much what he was aiming for once he got over the rocky crags. Their screams would be the sweetest of all of the countries and states he had conquered.

Hungarians.. They were weak and simple to him. But there was one thing he admired: it was that if there was a million of Ottoman soldiers standing on their front lawn, they wouldn't care about that. They'd care about their country and to keep it under their independent rule but-- too bad, so sad. Sadiq was going to burst that patriotic bubble of theirs and seize their country for the Empire and the Sultan, himself.

Eyes narrowed as if the big empire was sending a warning over to the Hungarians across the muddy field. Of course, they couldn't know about it but it was pretty legit in the eyes of the beholder.

"You brought my concubines, right?" There was a stern look to the servant when he showed up at the, finally, built tent. The boy nodded quickly and pointed inwards where the pillows, rugs, and very luxurious items were finally put up. 'Oh! Hello, Ladies.' was the look Sadiq had when he entered the tent, letting the flaps (the "doors") flop over to close. Why not let off some steam before building it back up in a battle? It seemed to be a pretty idea at the time.

The other men were setting up their five-persons tent that literally packed ten since there wasn't enough for the numbers the Ottoman Empire possessed. Each group put up the poles then the thin layered cover to go over the frame. There was one big pad on the bottom since it was difficult to carry all of those individual sleeping palettes just to use them once. No stopping for the head-strong Ottoman army!

[Hungary]

It was time.

The Hungarians had finished preparing themselves for the attack. Hungary sat upon his horse next to his king, one hand gripping the reigns of his horse, the other clasping his bow. His heart hammered beneath his ribs. Anticipation for the battle beginning to seep into his conscious.

He glanced at Louis who was looking at him in return and offered a reassuring smile. The army had used the tents for cover now it was up to the Priest-Soldier Pál Tomori to start the attack.

Hungary watched as his King made the signal to begin the attack, they would catch the Ottoman's unawares and hopefully gain the upper hand against their far superier numbers. Hungary hoped where they lacked the numbers they would be able to match in skill.

Mounted combat was prefered in Hungary as they had descended from Equestrian clans and were proficient with the bow on horseback. They would be able to mount an attack on the wave behind the footmen to hopefully do damage to their higher ranked leaders. Hungary turned his head to watch the scout ride off to give Pál Tomori the go ahead and soon enough he caught the sound of hooves as the right wing rode into action. Hungary sent up a quick prayer that the brave man would be seen to victory and that God watch over the men fighting this day.

He suddenly heard the men cry out as they rode into battle and drove into the Rumelians.

It had begun.

Hungary glanced at Louis. The young man gave a nod of his head, his grip tightening on his horses reigns. Hungary lifted his bow high and pointed towards the battlements.

"Huj, Huj, Hajrá!!" (Hungarian battle cry: Faster,Faster)

Hungary dug his heals into his horse's flanks leading the Center towards the battle. His eyes burned a fierce green fire as he rode forward, reaching back for an arrow and notching it to his bow.

"Lõdd le őket!!" (hungarian: shoot them down)

The men notched their bow strings, sending a flurry of arrows towards the Ottoman army beyond the first wave still engaging Pál Tomori soldiers. The marshes were filled with the shouts of Hungarians as they advanced on the Ottomans, determination in their hearts to preserve their land and remain in independant rule.

Hungary drew another arrow as he felt a droplet hit his brow, he frowned as he notched it and sent it flying, watching as it knocked an enemy back and curling into the ground. He glanced up to see the rain beggining to fall from dark grey clouds. An Icy claw gripped his heart. The rain would be troublesome, the muddy terrain would hamper their forces, but it would do so for both sides. He would have to hope the men would remain vigilant in their advance.

He stiffened slightly as he saw some of the Ottoman's advancing in his direction and quickly drew another arrow. He aimed and fired, one after the other trying to shoot down as many as he could, he would protect Louis at any cost. The rest of the center flank continued to aim for the wave behind the Rumelians now engaged in fierce combat with Pál. The Priest fought gallantly, sending Ottoman's to their death's in heaps at his horses hooves. Hungary had always admired the man, strong and corageous and he showed no less greatness in the face of these Ottomans. Perhaps they did have a chance after all.

OOC: There were lots of conflicting portrayels on the information I gathered so I tried my best to be as acurate as possible. Please let me know if any of it is incorrect or if there is anything I should fix. Thanks

[sadiqadnan]

Oh, the soft giggles that were made. Fingers on skin and lips pressing against it to say sweet nothings as if they were promises that he knew would never be met. All three woman crawled over the empire but one in particular sat up and whipped her head back after pulling it out of its straining bun. Sadiq's hands hesitated to touch the beautiful body but it was a good thing he didn't. Within a second, there was an arrow slicing right through the back of the concubine's back and the point barely showing in the middle of her chest. It took a moment for her to realize but when she did.. a horrible scream was let out but it was drowned out by the other yells of Sadiq's men trying to scramble up their weapons.

The empire just sat there after the other two girl got up to gather their things and eave before they were killed too. The large man barreled out of his tent, hands clenching his robe to cover everything that would be offensive to his men. His servant ran up with his sword and told that the Rumelian men were already deployed into the battle.

"BATTLE? Those bastards are attacking US first!?" Sadiq trudged back into his tent to throw his clothing back on in a flurry. His mask was adjusted when he finally stepped out of his make-shift home, grabbing his kilij from his servant. The horse servants trotted up with the reigns being handed over to the empire as fast and as awkwardly as they could. "Children! All of them are children!" Sadiq yelled in frustration while his tall body pulled itself up onto the equine then his heels dug harshly into the tender sides.

The empire shot off to where the outskirts of the battle were being held. It was obvious that they were taken off guard since many of his men were stumbling over the tents or even falling into them with blood stains following by making a dirty, red trail on the fabric. Sadiq's lips twitched, infuriated by how filthy the Hungarians were by sneaking up on them on a down time. This was his mens' fault.. They were highly noted to get a punishment later. A Hungarian soldier noticed the empire on his horse and plunged forward with his sword.. very stupidly. As he screamed and came forward, Sadiq calmly thrusted his sword forward, embedding it through the European's mouth and through the back of the head, then pulled to the side with all of his might. Well.. The screaming from the man was kind of annoying but the gurgling noise was amusing enough to make up for it. Emerald eyes examined more of the battle field before yanking on the reigns again to head back to his Sultan for consent. They needed artillery and they had plenty of it.

"ARCHERS! PREPARE FOR THE NEXT WAVE! LET THESE MEN DIE FOR THE ME!" The archers roared, knowing the front line always ended up six-feet under..

[Hungary]

The marsh was filled with the screams of the men, both in lust for blood or dying amidst the rain. It was a Hellish symphony that hung around them, but the Hungarians kept their hearts steeled for they still fought for God and country.

Hungary continued to send a barrage of arrows into the midsts of the Ottoman army, watching one by one as those fated to be struck by his arrows plummeted into the mud and blood soaked terrain. He stayed close to Louis, who continued to bark orders to the men, occasionlly felling an enemy with his sword that managed to get close enough.

They fought on, Pál had nearly decimated his enemies ranks, pushing forward as if the hands of God moved him, himself, but Hungary grew worried the farther and farther his flank advanced, the more drawn away he was from the rest of the army. The mud had already began to hinder the advance of Perenyi's left they were soon straightening out in somewhat of a vertical line and that could prove to be folly.

"Sir Pál!" Hungary called out to the Priest, but the man was to far ahead to hear. Hungary frowned but pulled in closer to Louis, no matter what he would remain his shield.

The Hungarians sent another flurry of arrows into the enemy ranks as the rainfall seemed to thicken as hard droplets struck Hungary's armor with loud tings. As they continued their advance on the Ottomans, Hungary hoped they could hold out, he still had a growing pit in his stomach. Something bad was about to happen and he couldn't shake it.

Both Hungary and Louis struck down an Ottoman, exchanging a glance as they did so. The king felt at ease with his loyal knight at his side, yet he still couldn't shake the fact that this rainfall would be somewhat ominous. But they continued to fight and pray the day see them in their favor.

[sadiqadnan]

Blood was staining Sadiq's kilij but it didn't seem to bother him. His eyes were locked solid on the enemies, giving them no room to escape his blade. A Hungarian soldier ran towards him quickly, sword thrusting forward but the even faster empire counter by grabbing one of his own men. Stepping to the side, his green eyes watched as the sword was embedded into the Ottoman soldier's chest. Screams and kicks were made to the Hungarian by the dying man until there was silence. The opposing soldier stared up in horror at the taller male, yanking at his sword since he would be powerless and useless without it.

Slowly, a smile formed just below Sadiq's concealing mask. "Too bad you didn't think about this before." The empire suddenly thrusted his curved blade through his dead soldier and into his enemy's chest. A couple of reassuring pushes on the hilt to make sure that recovering wasn't an option. Two bodies dropped at his feet with a slight snarl to his demeanor. No one had seen it, meaning there was still room for some fun.

The horsemen charged forward at his own, finally prepared, men. The bowstrings were pulled back with their itching fingers, Sadiq's sword raising up into the air then quickly to give the signal to behind their reign. There was nothing fired because the Ottoman's finally noticed a cloud of arrows that were heading towards them from the Hungarian side. "SHOOT ANYWAY!" Hopping off of his horse, Sadiq slapped it's rear so it could run off to safety for the moment. The fearful Ottomans were ready again, prepared, and knowing that they were most likely going to die. "FIRE ALREADY!" The arrows were off in a whirling, even bigger cloud that defeated the purpose of the Hungarian flying sticks. The empire grinned at the power as the arrows were over powered by his own. Screams and yells from both sides since both had the firepower to do so. "FIRE AGAIN!" Sadiq wasn't giving the Hungarians anymore time to think.

Kill. Kill. Kill. That was all the Ottoman empire thought, including conquering. Sadiq was already annoyed and bored with the opposing army and many things were needed to be done to hear and see the silence and horror he could potentially cause. His eyes turned toward a smaller battalion of men led by his "good friend" Pál. With a big smile on his face, Sadiq opened up his arms as if it was a welcoming gesture. Slowly, his own men (the unwounded) formed behind him, ready to attack the head-strong general. "Welcome back, my friend. It's good to see you. One of us will die and I know for a fact that it's not going to be me." Without another word, the taller male gestured elegantly to his own men to start their attack. One by one, the Ottoman army charged forward. Arrows in the air, foot soldiers on the ground, and horsemen right in between. Nothing was standing still, except for Sadiq with that wicked grin of his.

[Hungary]

Hungary stiffened atop his horse as he caught the familiar whistle above his head. He looked up to see a menacing wall of arrows heading in his direction.

"PAJZSOK!" (Hungarian: Shields!) Hungary yelled as he dropped his bow and snatched the shield from its place near his thigh, raising it above his head.

The Hungarians followed suit as the arrows rained down upon them, some fell as the first wave broke their defenses but Hungary managed to get out unscathed. He glanced back at Louis, concern etched across his youthful features "Back your highness! You must get out of their range quickly!"Sure enough another volly was heading their way. Hungary barely managed to lift his shield in time to protect himself from the onslaught. It was so quick the Hungarians had no time to retaliate with arrows of their own.

Hungary cried out as his mount stumbled, the country glanced down to see his horse had been struck by the second wave of arrows and before he could react, his mount fell to the side, sending the young knight flying from the saddle and landing in the blood soaked mud around him, briefly knocking the air from his lungs.

"ELI!" he heard Louis call to him. He coughed and sputtered as he managed to get to his knees, peering in horror at his horse lying wounded in front of him. "I'm ok!" he managed to call out to his King "Please stay back highness! Get to the rear!"

"But Eli.."

"If we lose you highness all is lost!" He yelled back at his leige "Please ride to the rear! I'll be fine!"

His King looked distraught but dug his heels into his horse's flanks and began to ride off back towards the back of the central flank. Eli drew his dagger swiftly from his boot and dug the blade into the flesh of his horse, ending the poor beast's misery. He sent a quick silent prayer to God as he pulled the blade free yet had no time to mourn the loss of his horse as several Ottoman soldiers circled around him. Eli looked from one to the other, emerald eyes cold and piercing. He drew his sword and ducked into a stance, a blade poised in each hand as he stared the enemy down, his gaze daring them to attack.

Sure enough the soldiers moved in to attack, Eli jumped to the side to dodge the first swing and dug his dagger into the gut of another, eviscerating the poor man and pulling the blade free. With a ferocious battle cry the young knight swung his sword, cutting through the neck of another, sending the head flying from it's body, face frozen forever in shock as death claimed him instantly. Eli spun his body in an arc, slicing at another man, the sharp blade cutting the man from gut to sternum and sending him back, blood spluttering over Hungary's fair cheeks, below a burning emerald gaze. He then swung and burried his blade into the gut of another soldier, kicking the dying man off his blade and sending him to die in the blood soaked mud below.

Eli panted, his eyes fiery with the bloodlust that began to consume his senses. Though he was a bit reluctant to admit it, he always felt alive amongst the battlefield. He could be as bloodthirsty as any other no matter how innocent he looked, and was quite a menace indeed with a blade in his hand. He glanced up in time to see another pair of Ottoman's advancing on him and with another cry he felled those men as well, stabbing into the smooth flesh and making the sky around him rain red.

Meanwhile Pál Tomori made his way amongst the ranks of dying Ottoman's and Hungarians alike, his face drawn in a somewhat grim expression. His flank had prospered well so far, but he knew it would be a matter of time before the tides would turn. The number of Ottoman's was to great and soon the Hungarians would find themselves overrun by the shear numbers alone.

But the Monk held steadfast. It was up to God to decide when it was time for him to die, and until then he would keep fighting. He pressed on, felling enemies left and right, spurred on by the thought of ridding his land of this monstrosity. Emboldened by his faith and determination. He rode forward, blade raised to the sky, met with his battlecry, truely something magestic upon a horse, the site of their hero strengthening the hearts of the Hungarians as they pressed forward.

Pál Tomori was met with a familar face as he spotted Sadiq in the distance. His gaze narrowed as the man lifted his arms out towards him as if inviting him in for the usual dance of swordsmanship. "Welcome back, my friend. It's good to see you. One of us will die and I know for a fact that it's not going to be me."

"I defeated you once Ottoman!" Pál held the man's gaze "Are you sure you want to match swords with me again?" the Priest-soldier advanced on his mount ever closer, felling as many Ottoman's as he could in his wake.

[sadiqadnan]

The flanks of the Ottoman army pushed forward through the marsh. The group helped each other but only on occasion, otherwise, it was every man for himself. Their swords in the air, waving them with hardly any training what-so-ever. All the empire's generals taught the foot soldiers was to just swing the blade until it hit someone or something. Blood was splattering everywhere; whether it was from the Ottoman or a Hungarian, it really didn't matter. An arm was an arm but that was why they were created with two arms. Kind of like back up for each other. If the Ottoman had to fight with his teeth, then he'd fight with his teeth. "Için bıraktı! Orada Saldırı!¹" the men cried out and half of the throng of soldiers split, moving in the left direction.

Hearing the far away shouts, Sadiq smirked at his men from where he was. He knew how independent enough to create their own leaders. A huff was made before looking down towards one of his many rivals, Pál Tomori. With the empire's arms still out, the dark haired head tilted back to let out a rather out-of-place laugh. This laugh was sadistic and merciless. "You think..? Oh my. Priceless. That was hardly even a defeat. That was simply a gentle reminder and, probably more accurate, a warning for what was going to happen to you." Sadiq pulled out his kilij one more time and aimed it to the man's throat, "That head is mine, Pál. I won't rest until I have Hungary's and your head on my wall. Another hunt. BİR KAFA!²"

The Hungarian got himself ready and charged forward, "You don't have the ability to fight like a man!? You have to us your animal that is going to end up dead anyway!? Korkak!³ ÇOCUK!⁴" The man kept riding towards him and Sadiq quickly took a hold of his scarf and unwrapped it from around his neck. His large, round hat was yanked off to reveal his entire head (minus the white mask). Green narrowed as the horse seemed to be going faster and faster towards him, the muscles flexing and ready to swerve so its master could take a swing at him.

Sadiq's hair was a mess in the first place (thanks to the hat) but it worked out for the older empire. His hand reached for his smaller knife as fast as he could, chucking towards the horse's head but missed. "Kahretsin! Unut gitsin. Manuel olarak yapmak da olabilirdi.⁵" Sadiq's nose scrunched in concentration as his body turned perfectly, arms gracefully moving over the head for the perfect swing. The blade sliced through the horse's strong chest, making it buckle over automatically but the blade wasn't stopping. The very sharp tip continued to pierce along side of the horse, opening it up and letting whatever was against the muscle spill out. Crimson liquid spat out and hit the Ottoman's uniform.

This momentum was enough to distract Pál and enough time for Sadiq to duck out of the way of the man's weapon. "Ha! Now! Get up and fight like the man you should be! No more hiding behind men nor animals! Thick walls will not save you from my blood stained blade. Prepare for your death and say your Holy Prayers to your Lord." Sadiq sneered before thrusting forward with his kilij, hoping that the monk would put up a fight.

______________________________________________

Translations:
1 - To the left! Attack there!
2 - ANOTHER HEAD!
3 - Coward!
4 - Child!
5 - Shit! Forget it. Might as well do it manually.

[Hungary]

"That head is mine, Pál. I won't rest until I have Hungary's and your head on my wall. Another hunt. BÝR KAFA!"

"Then come and take it Ottoman!" Pál dug his heels into his horse's flanks, the animal charged forward, Pál's blade raised, killing any Ottoman that was unfortunate to come into the path of his blade. The screams of dying men surrounded him, but he ignored them, the General caught in his sights. Lord guide me... he sent a prayer as he paved his way towards his enemy in steel and blood.

You don't have the ability to fight like a man!? You have to us your animal that is going to end up dead anyway!? Korkak! ÇOCUK!"

With a cry the priest continued his bloody path to the Ottoman General unphased by the petty threats the man threw at him. His gaze narrowed as he caught sight of the knife being hurled at him and swiftly dodged it, leaning his body towards the left of his horse, careful however not to adjust the weight too much to send him topling to the mud below. Regaining his posture, Pál swung his blade out to the side, catching another few soldiers in it dangerous wake. Blood stained and trickled over his armor marring the polished surface.

He approaced his target and swiftly made a swing at the enemy, however the man had managed to dodge the blow and swung his sword, striking at the Priest's horse, slicing into the poor animal's flesh. With a cry of faint surprise, the priest fell from his horse into the mud. With a grunt of frustration he got to his feet, pulling his shield from the mud and gripping his blade tightly. A soldier swung at him from his right, Pál thrust the shield forward, deflecting the man's swing and sending him stunned into the mud. He then thrust his blade into the soldier's chest, granting him a swift death.

Ha! Now! Get up and fight like the man you should be! No more hiding behind men nor animals! Thick walls will not save you from my blood stained blade. Prepare for your death and say your Holy Prayers to your Lord."

Pál glared sternly and moved to encounter the General but more soldiers tried to foolishly bar his way. The priest swung mercilessly, nearly slicing one man in half through his middle, eviscerating the gut of another, his innards spluttering out over the red soaked soil and slicing open the neck of another from the sharp line of his shield , the man pitching forward in a gurgle of blood.

Pál swiftly turned to gaze at his target that was now advancing on him. His eyes widened slightly as the man struck at him, thrusting his shield forward to block the blow, The priest ducked back a step and took a swing at the Empire's right side. If it was a fight that man wanted. A fight he would most deffinately be met with.


Meanwhile Hungary stayed with Louis's center flank, hacking and slashing at any moving body that was deemed an enemy. He burried his dagger in one man's chest before thrusting the dying man off the blade. He sliced at another with his sword, cutting through the man's leg with his abnormal strength. The man screamed in pain and as he fell Hungary stabbed his dagger through the man's throat and yanked outward, cutting flesh apart with ease and sending blood flying.

He managed a glance back at his King who had taken position towards the back of the unit out of the range of the arrows. Relieved his king was safe, Hungary pressed forward, looking up to see Sadiq engaged in battle with Pál.

Hungary sent a prayer for the priest's protection before turning to see another wave of arrows being sent in his direction. Swiftly Hungary ducked down behind his dead horse for cover, dodging the onslaught and taking a quick breath to regain his bearings. He felt his heart sink as he glanced around him. His men were beginning to falter, so many had died already under the aerial assault and more were being slaughtered left and right.

Hungary bit his bottom lip. He had to make a split second decision and make it he did. Louis would listen to him he had to make sure he escaped safely. Hungary jumped up from his cover and broke out into a run, dodging and weaving as he made his way towards his King. The Hungarians let him by with no protest and Ottoman soldiers were met with steel as he tried to break through the engaged unit. His boots sunk into the mud, hindering his progress, but the young man pressed on, determined to reach his Leige, the sound of death following him from behind.

[sadiqadnan]

Sadiq grunted as the man seemed to know how to block fairly well. His body swung elegantly just so he could get out of the way of the sharp blade. His fierce green eyes hardly left the priest, lips thin and pressed into a white line in pure frustration. His scruffy upper lip twitched when Pál seemed to get back up every time he shoved him down. "Are you kidding me!? You mouse!" His kilij was flipped in his hands so he could re-grip the woven gold and red hilt.

"Very well, I'm going to have to kill you, Pál, my dear friend." he mumbled, lips touching his blood stained blade. His fingers gripped hard against the handle, lip twitching again in disgust. With no shield, the empire charged forward, gauntlets being thrown to the ground as if he was making the fight fair now. His free hand pressed his palm to the butt of the sword while the fingers curled to hold on tight. "DIE." In his blood-thirst, Sadiq couldn't see anything but Pál. Red and Pál.

"DIEDIEDIE, YOU BASTARD! GET OUT OF MY WAY!" Like a selfish child, the Ottoman empire rushed forward and thrust his kilij without mercy. Yelling in Turkish gibberish, there was no sense coming from the empire. His green eyes wild with thirst of the priest's blood on his sword and hands. B-Lining towards his enemy, Sadiq sent a wave of swungs towards Pál and would jump out of the way if the priest had thrown his own swings-- that's if he could the chance to. Seeing an opening, the empire spent no time to think about it. His kilij rammed right through the man with the lightest of laughter and it was obvious that Sadiq was the victor this time. Green eyes looked for Hungary in the crowd and once he found the boy, the most vicious grin crept onto Sadiq's face. The kilij was pushed in deeper through the man's chest to make sure it was seriously embedded.

"I knew I would get you.. One day.. Oh, what a glorious day this is.." Sadiq whispered into Pál's ear as if he was a long lost lover, "Your G-d will protect you in the afterlife. This is your time and your destiny is to be killed by me. There is a purpose for this but I don't know just yet.. Live in another life as how you need to be. Live longer and grow white hair with a loving wife dying right beside you. This wasn't your life." Pál was chucked onto the damp ground but the empire wasn't done just yet with the priest. The worn and sunkissed hand reached down to yank the priest up by his hair with the blade to his neck. "Good bye, dear friend." Sadiq didn't waste anymore time and sliced right through the neck. It took a moment before the body recognized what had happened with its core element but as soon as it did, the veins started to spew its contents all over. Most of Sadiq's lower half was covered with blood but the empire didn't care. His soaked boots kicked the headless body over disrespectfully and continued to hold onto the head.

Most of the Ottoman empire soldiers cheered if they weren't directly fighting. It was official, there was no chance that Hungary was going to win this war against the sadistic empire. Green eyes scanned for Eli again but once they locked on the boy, his finger pointed out to him from on top of the hill. The head of Pál was also lifted up as if it was a message, or a warning, that he was going to be next. Sadiq was going to force his way through but for now, the head was handed off to a soldier to take it back to base camp as a victorious victory over the Hungarian army.

"Come play with me, Hungary.. I insist." he murmured, knowing the words wouldn't reach the weakening country. That sadistic grin came back to his lips as he yanked his kilij from Pál's lifeless body to hold it up too as if it was to prove his victory even more. A dead Hungarian was grabbed and used to wipe away the staining blood away from the metal of the blade. "Thank you. I deeply appreciate your assistance."

[Hungary]

The rain was pouring, hindering Hungary's vision as he did his best to reach his King's side. Long waves of amber hair was matted to his fair cheeks, eyes bright with determination. Ears were flooded with the sounds of men dying left and right of him, he grit his teeth as he pitched forward, ducking and weaving around Hungarians and Ottomans alike engaged in dance of steel.

"LOUIS!" Hungary screamed the name as he trudged through blood soaked mud. There was no time for formalities and they could scold him later for not addressing his Liege properly, but his biggest concern was his kings safety.

"ELI!" he heard Louis call back to him, he looked up to see his king ride up to him a look of concern on his youthful features. "Eli! I can't see well through all this rain! How fares Pál's left?"

"Not well my Lord" Hungary turned, pressing his back against his King's horse for balance as he turned his gaze across the battlements. Louis followed his gaze and frowned as he saw his contry men falling under the Ottoman's persistant onslaught.

"They have us outnumbered don't they?"

"My Lord you must flee!" Hungary turned to gaze up at the young King "Call a retreat with your guard, I'll hold them off while the survivors begin the retreat..."

"but Eli..."

"My Lord! If you fall here all is lost! Please my King! Retreat. We'll regroup and find another way, the battle here is over." Please go, please go...Hungary pleaded in his mind for his King to listen to him. His life had to be preserved for the fate of his homeland.

"R...right" Louis answered, knowing the look on Hungary's face. He had always known his Knight's judgement to be sound "Call the retreat!" Louis signaled to his guard before looking back at Eli "Be careful Eli..."

It was then the two heard the cheers that washed along the plain of dying men. Hungary and Louis looked in stunned silence as the Ottoman General held the head of their hero high. The color drained from Louis' face "Sir Pál...." Hungary tapped his foot, snapping him out of his shock.

"Get moving! We'll hold off the Ottomans!" Hungary then turned, sword and dagger drawn and trudged back into the melee, Louis staring after him in shocked silence before his guard came to him and urged him to make his retreat along the river.

******
Pál was a Hungarian hero, he had fought against the Ottoman's before and had won, so the sight of his death hit the Hungarian's morale like a stampede of wild horses. Many of the soldiers began to realize the battle was falling out of their favor, not just with the Priest's death but by the sheer numbers that overwhelmed them, They began to retreat, but the Ottoman's pursued them, killing in their wake, very few managed to escape into the nearby woodland.

With a cry of Fury, Hungary pushed forward, killing Ottoman's that dared to advance on him on his way to meet the General "Sadiq!" he hissed as battle fury swept over him, green eyes glowed with an inner fire, an unsatiated bloodlust. Sure enough his enemy waited for him, the head of Pál and his blade held high, taunting him, calling him to come forward and match blades.

A summons Hungary was way to willingly prepared to answer...

He ran forward with a cry of almost desperation, ignoring his body's protests and threatened exaustion. He continued to kill a path to his adversary, the masked man locked in his sights.

"Come play with me, Hungary.. I insist."

"DIE YOU MASKED BASTARD!" he drove on into the frey, blades raised and ready.

OOC: I talked it over with Turkey and we're gunna do the actual battle in chat, and then post it here. I hope thats alright, but we think it will work better for the flow of things so we can respond to others actions without making two sentence posts and such.

I'm actually excited to do this XD