Difference between revisions of "Highvale Family/Cedric/Battle of Paisly"
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The raven's call echoed across the summer sky, bearing ill tidings from the western wastes. A raven, black as a moonless night, arrived at our keep, its talons clutching a parchment sealed with the golden lion of Mormont. The words inscribed upon it chilled my blood – a horde of monstrous creatures were marching on Paisly, a storm of claws and teeth poised to break upon our city. | The raven's call echoed across the summer sky, bearing ill tidings from the western wastes. A raven, black as a moonless night, arrived at our keep, its talons clutching a parchment sealed with the golden lion of Mormont. The words inscribed upon it chilled my blood – a horde of monstrous creatures were marching on Paisly, a storm of claws and teeth poised to break upon our city. | ||
Latest revision as of 00:29, 14 June 2024
The raven's call echoed across the summer sky, bearing ill tidings from the western wastes. A raven, black as a moonless night, arrived at our keep, its talons clutching a parchment sealed with the golden lion of Mormont. The words inscribed upon it chilled my blood – a horde of monstrous creatures were marching on Paisly, a storm of claws and teeth poised to break upon our city.
I, Cedric Highvale, barely a man grown at twenty summers, found myself at the heart of this looming storm. My Emerald Blades, a fledgling company of warriors green in years but eager in spirit, stood atop Paisly's fortified walls, ready to defend our home. Beside us stood Duke Ulfang Mormont, Lord of Paisly and Lord General of D'Hara, a grizzled lion of a man whose family sigil, a golden lion on a field of red and white, was a symbol of unwavering courage. His Royal Madinans, seasoned veterans of countless battles, stood ready with their bows, their faces grim with determination. And at our flanks stood the Occidens Mercantile Guard, led by the valiant Dame Alna Sarwell, their presence a testament to the unity of our realm.
As the monstrous horde approached, a palpable dread settled over the city. The air itself seemed to grow heavy with the stench of rotting flesh and the guttural growls of the approaching beasts. Their forms, a grotesque mockery of nature, filled me with a primal fear that I fought to suppress for I had never faced such creatures in battle before. But beneath that fear, an ember of defiance flickered, fueled by the unwavering courage of my companions and the knowledge that we were fighting for the very lives of our loved ones. The first wave of monsters, a nightmarish tide of claws and fangs, surged towards the city walls, their eyes burning with a feral hunger. We met their charge with a hail of arrows and bolts, the air filled with the metallic twang of bowstrings and the sickening thud of projectiles piercing flesh. The Emerald Blades, my brothers-in-arms, stood firm, gripping their swords and shields tightly. They knew that if the monsters breached the walls, the burden of holding them back would fall upon them.
The battle raged beneath the fortifications, a brutal dance of desperation and defiance. Duke Ulfang, his face a mask of grim determination, barked orders, his voice a thunderous roar above the din of combat. His Royal Madinans, with the precision born of countless battles, rained down a deadly barrage of stones and arrows upon the encroaching horde. Dame Alna, her eyes blazing with righteous fury, directed the mercantile guard's archers, their every arrow a testament to the indomitable spirit of our people. As the sun dipped below the horizon, casting long shadows upon the battlefield, the tide of the battle began to turn. The monsters, weakened by our relentless assault, faltered and fell back, their ranks thinning with every passing moment. A cheer erupted from our lines as we watched the last of the creatures succumb to our ranged onslaught, their broken bodies forming a gruesome barrier at the base of the city walls.
When the last monstrous form lay lifeless upon the blood-soaked earth, a hush fell over the city. The silence was broken only by the mournful cries of the ravens circling overhead, their dark wings silhouetted against the fading light. We had triumphed, and thanks to the skill of our archers and the unyielding strength of the walls, we had done so without a single casualty. The victory was complete. The victory was ours, but it was a victory tempered by the knowledge that the darkness had not been truly vanquished, merely driven back. The war was far from over, and the shadows still lingered at the edges of our world. But for this day, at least, we had held firm, and the golden lion of Mormont still flew proudly above the walls of Paisly.
-Firsthand account from Cedric Highvale
Contents
<a name="#battle">Battle in Paisly</a>
message to all nobles participating in the battle in Paisly
Battle Results
(Personal message)
