Lantzas/April 1006
Report of the Battle of Lantzas, April 10, 1006, as told by Xarnelf, Haruspex Maximus of Taith Aenil:
"Looks like we're the only ones who made it here in time," Sir Xarnelf sighed as he turned away from Count Xahtorb to stare at the vast, approaching army. It looked almost comical, if he had not known that they would soon clash arms, for what he saw from his elevated position on the outer palisade appeared to be a slowly rolling wave of cornstalks due to the soldiers' colors of green and gold, which were especially accentuated by way of the many banners dispersed throughout the entire force.
The odds they were facing did not in the slightest bit raise the young knight's spirits. His scout had earlier estimated the gathered allied armies would face a foe almost double their own in terms of both men and total strength. At least they had the advantage of wooden walls to protect them, he mused idly, though he harbored no illusions about what would occur should the defending archers fail in preventing the siege engines from reaching the walls.
He looked one last time to the south, hoping with all his heart to see some sign of the approach of his fellow troop leaders, of Lord Orphen with his superbly trained archers, Drantin XXI, of Count Titus Van with his dedicated infantry, the Faithful, of Noble William Draconius with his fearsome infantry, the Dragons of the new land, but there was nothing except empty land stretching into the horizon.
They would have to make a stand with the Arcaean militia, Lord Xahtorb and he; they would have to hold until the reinforcements came--they must hold. Their allies depended on them for this.
Xarnelf turned back to his companion on the walls with a mild chuckle. "Too bad Igna isn't here with us..I'm sure that giant of a man would have loved to bash in some heads with his wicked gauntlets by our side." He smiled grimly and held out his arm to Xahtorb, "I'll be depending on your Macemen to protect my archers for as long as possible once the melee starts, milord. May we hold strong in the coming battle." They clasped arms in silent agreement.
After nodding to the Count of Ornaz, the knight turned away with a barely audible sigh and moved off the walls to check on the readiness of his Farsighters.
`~`~`~`
They surged forwards in a rather simple infantry charge comprised of eight units arrayed mostly in line formation, with the exception of an odd box shape protruding on the left flank. It seemed they intended to rely on their superior numbers to overwhelm the defenders after the first blows were dealt. Xarnelf checked his bowstring for its level of tautness and made sure his quivers of arrows were easily accessible both upon and before his person.
The young noble turned to face his captain standing next to him. "Jint, let's show them the extent of our mettle."
Urjintah nodded to his friend. "The Farsighters have been trained well and shall not disappoint you in the slightest, Xarne. I daresay they will stand to the last man, for they have waited long to see action, to prove themselves worthy of their name once more."
Smiling in agreement, Xarnelf clapped his companion since childhood on the shoulder before facing his men. "Farsighters, ready your bows! For Arcaea, and for Taith Aenil!"
`~`~`~`
The defenders fired first, sending waves of wood crashing down into the ranks of enemy troops. Unfazed, the Ethialan infantry continued their charge with thunderous roars of defiance. Two of their archer units took aim and let fly in a counterattack, providing cover fire for the third, significantly larger unit to move forwards for access to better and more devastating shots.
Soon, it was apparent to all that the tide of battle turned in favor of the attackers: there were just too many to fight back with only walls of wood as protection. Two great siege towers slammed into the outer palisades, sending tremors up and down the line and causing a few men to temporarily lose their balance. Countless ladders sprang up to latch onto the pointed pales, steadily growing too numerous for the defenders to successfully face and repel all of them.
Xarnelf quickly glanced left and right to ascertain their current situation. From his position in the center, he observed that the left and middle sections were still holding firm, thanks in no small part to the valiant efforts of the Faithful, but the right flank began faltering--the Red Remton Company was slowly losing ground.
The knight quickly made a decision whose wisdom he would later question in the nights following the battle of Lantzas when he lay restless on his cot. "Farsighters, to me! Move to bolster the right!" he called, waving his short bow in the indicated direction.
The unit rolled away from the main body at his call, moving to fire over the heads of the beleaguered first company from Remton. One by one, the sixteen men of the mixed infantry unit fell, unable to meet the superior onslaught of the special forces unit facing them, who were obviously more versatile due to the nature of their training as they evaded swing after swing of the defenders' blades.
"Farsighters, fall back to the center and draw your swords! Let us fight side by side with our brothers!"
As Xarnelf and his archers moved back to strengthen the line, breaks began appearing at intervals throughout the line. Risking a look to the far left, the noble groaned in apprehension as he saw an enemy unit find a solid foothold over the wall. Turning back to the oncoming special forces, he groaned again in dread as the majority of them scaled the palisade.
After a little bit over an hour of fighting, the allied forces became surrounded on both sides, and the center wavered under the repeated blows of Ethiala's finest. Shortly afterwards, the cracks grew in size, and the defenders were split into four sections, still desperately battling, still trying to hold what could no longer be held.
They had no choice but to fall back to the second line of defenses, but the foe came on relentlessly. As the last Taith Aenil banner fell, Xarnelf looked around in shock and disbelief. A glancing blow to his side sent him reeling, and he stumbled backwards diagonally into Count Xahtorb, who held out a steadying hand.
Seeing his leader disoriented at the edge of his vision, Captain Feralgem cried out in alarm, "Xarne! There are too many of them! We must retreat and regroup if we are to survive this battle!"
In response, the young noble growled in defiance and lifted a fallen banner. He proceeded to swing both it and his sword at the Ethialians around him in reckless abandon, intending to push them back several steps. He succeeded and was thus able to reach some of his men lying wounded on the palisade landing.
With the help of some of the dwindling members of the Faithful, Xarnelf and Urjintah dragged those too wounded to stand back behind the last line of Arcaean militia.
Whooping in elation, the armies of Ethiala rushed forwards to break down the final group of defenders standing in their way. Their powerful center speared through the Arcaean ranks, splitting them in twain with their incredible force.
In the matter of a few minutes, the last of the militia fell, beset on all sides like an island is surrounded by water. The battle of Lantzas lasted for two long hours. Not a single attacking unit was completely repelled, while all defending troops were wiped out. It was a grave disaster for those involved of Arcaea and Taith Aenil.
