Keygen mount&Blade: With Fire & Sword
This realistic, playable and dynamic wargame recreates the 17th century wars in Europe, focusing on the periods between 1640 and 1676; a time of almost constant warfare waged by the Polish-Lithuanian Commonwealth on all fronts, in many cases with several enemies at the same time. Your opponent's face has nowhere near that resistance, so this sword will do a great job of burning that. It's a weapon dedicated to fighting hordes in an arsenal that is already dedicated to fighting hordes. With Fire & Sword builds and expands upon the highly regarded combat system from Mount & Blade: Warband.
To Fire and Sword
He had caught this bunch moons ago.
On the road from here to Blackwood Vale they had been found, dressed in the bright red they had been expected to be wearing. Arstan had put out notices about red priests being captured and tried far beforehand, yet these fools had not even tried to disguise themselves. And so as the Lord of Stone Hedge rode north to meet with Lord Blackwood, he had encountered members of the very same group that had driven him to do so.
It was strange, Arstan thought, how fury at a greater foe could create the strangest of allies. Houses Bracken and Blackwood had fought for centuries, sword against sword, trading ownership of Piety and its oft ironic name, and those foolish hills that only became part of their feud because of a tyrant’s actions - a tyrant whose progeny would forever rule the Seven Kingdoms no matter whether their dragon was black or red. Yet now he and Lord Roderick stood together, brothers against a common foe with thoughts of hills behind them.
For now, their foe was that foreign god and its murderous followers. Followers like the three men tied to stakes in the Stone Hedge courtyard before him. At his left and right stood his sons Robert and Elyas respectively, both clutching bows in their hands. Arstan himself held a throwing spear with a tip as thin as paper and as sharp as a needle.
His hand tightened around the haft as he locked eyes with the leader of the band of priests, and he began to speak. If there was one thing that all agreed on when it came to the Lord of Stone Hedge, it was that he held an imposing presence. Every word that left his mouth was one that could kill a man if spoken right. In this case, they likely would.
“I know not your names,” he began, “but I know who you are. I know what god you worship. I know what words fill your mouth when you are afraid. I know the prayers you utter as darkness enters your mind and your eyes as your final moments draw near. I know how you think you can reach him.”
With a quick nod he signalled to a group of men-at-arms bearing torches nearby to the priests on their stakes.
“Do you wish to suffer that pain for a chance at seeing your false god? Do you wish to witness his glory with your own eyes?”
Arstan’s question was met with a fervent bout of nodding from the priest on the left, to which his mouth opened with a broad grin.
“Do not say I did not warn you.”
With that, the men-at-arms threw their torches upon the pyres and they were alight within moments. Like snakes charmed by a flute from the far east, slowly but surely pushing their way out of their basket and into the clear air, they rose and danced. No music accompanied their climb however, but pure silence. Until the fire caught the bottom of the centre priest’s robe. Then, that silence was broken.
It was initially just a panicked gasp, but it turned to screaming as the flame reached his leg. As it rose up the pyre it began to find its way up his robe as it did his brethren. Even the gags in their mouths began to burn away, as did their hair - parts of their skin joined them.
Prayers to the Red God rose from the men, each chanting the same words in remarkable time. “Oh, R’hllor, Lord of Light! Our God of Flame and Shadow, embrace us in our death. Let our life be taken by your eternal fires and brought to a greater land where we may fight the Great Other with our all!”
“Admirable,” Arstan said, stopping them as they began another prayer, “yet you will not be meeting with your precious Lord of Light this day. My sons. Nock.”
“No, no, no!”
“You must not, he will… he will strike you down!”
Both Robert and Elyas let their arrows fly, and both hit their mark with fury. Fire had caused the two priests pain, but it had not slain them. Arstan Bracken’s sons had slain them, with no remorse or hesitation.
Yet one more remained.
“Lord Bracken,” he shouted as he pushed back a scream, “you know not what you do! We had nothing to do with the death you wish to avenge! We are innocents, I swea-AAAAAAAH!”
Arstan spat on the ground and threw his spear as he gave his answer. “I care not if you swung the sword. I care not if you lit the flame. You revere your false god as much as they did, and that drove them to kill a woman my son loved. Do you understand me? Your Lord of Light will kill more innocent Westerosi if you heathens are suffered to exist. I will not stand for it! Die now!”
And so he did, his last breath being a gasp as the fire leapt up over him and the spear pierced through. Without even a second look at his victims, Arstan Bracken turned away, yellow cloak billowing with a gust of wind that swept through. “Robert. Elyas. Do as you wish. We will meet just before sunrise for breakfast. If you are late I will have you sweep the pyres yourselves.”
Was he doing the right thing? At this point, the Lord of Stone Hedge did not know. But he knew what he was doing was not wrong. Who knew what these men would have done if they had been allowed to roam the Trident for longer? It did not bear thinking about.
He did what he had to. What more could be asked for?
submitted by Pichu737