Difference between revisions of "Highvale Family/Aric/Battle of Zdenka"
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Exhaustion crashed over me like a wave. I slumped against a broken wagon wheel, the cheers of my men a distant echo in my ears. I had survived, and so had most of my company. But at what cost? | Exhaustion crashed over me like a wave. I slumped against a broken wagon wheel, the cheers of my men a distant echo in my ears. I had survived, and so had most of my company. But at what cost? | ||
| − | ''- | + | ''-Firsthand account from Aric Highvale'' |
Latest revision as of 00:30, 14 June 2024
The smoke of battle choked the sky, a putrid shroud hanging over the ravaged fields of Zdenka. Beneath it lay the shattered remnants of the undead and monster horde, their lifeless forms a grisly tapestry spread across the blood-soaked earth. The Emerald Blades, my company, had bought this victory dearly. Three good men would feast for eternity in the halls of valor, ten more bore the crimson etchings of the reaper's touch, their bodies marked by the crucible of war. Yet, amidst the carnage, a single, defiant emerald banner still fluttered proudly in the tainted breeze. We were battered, but unbroken. The battlefield reeked of blood, burnt flesh, and worse. The air buzzed with the cries of carrion birds feasting on the fallen. A fitting end for those who would harm the living.
We had arrived in Zdenka at the command of Enzio Falconi, the military leader of our forces, a man as cunning as a wolf and twice as deadly. His war against the undead hordes of this land had drawn us into a brutal conflict. This was my second taste of battle, and the memory of the first was still fresh in my mind. The terror, the chaos, the feeling of being utterly outmatched. But that fight had forged a bond between me and my men, the Emerald Blades.
They weren't battle-hardened veterans, but they were the best men you could ask for. Their lineage stretched back to my grandfather's day in service to House Highvale. Both my father, my brothers, and I had learned our first swings of a sword from a grizzled Emerald Bladesmen. The Blades, in turn, bore the sigil of the Highvale family with pride, their loyalty as unwavering as their blades. Years of training under the watchful eyes of Watto's finest instructors had honed their skills to a razor's edge. Swordsmanship, discipline, and battlefield tactics - they knew it all. They were eager to prove themselves, not just for their own glory, but to uphold the legacy of the Emerald Blades and the honor of House Highvale.
As the enemy shambled into view, a tide of rotting flesh and mindless hunger, I felt a surge of adrenaline. This wasn't the time for grand pronouncements or heroic boasts. I just needed to get my men into position, to give them clear orders, and to hope to hell that it would be enough.
"Blades!" I barked, my voice hoarse but steady. "Ready to push forward at my command!"
A ragged volley erupted from just in front of our ranks, finding purchase here and there in the enemy horde. The undead didn't seem to falter, but at least they were slowed.
"Forward!", the Emerald Blades and I began to push through the other units on the field to intercept the monsters bearing down on us.
"Remember this day!" I roared, unsheathing my own sword. "Hold the line! Fight for your lives and honor!"
The clash of steel on rotting flesh was sickening, the stench of decay overwhelming. My men fought with a desperate courage, but they were vastly outnumbered. We were a small company of infantry, no heroes of yore among us, just men with swords and a fierce determination to survive. The battle raged on. Men fell around me, their cries swallowed by the din of battle. I parried a clumsy blow from a monstrous warrior, the scales scraping against my steel, and felt my hand go numb from the power behind its attack. My lungs burned, my arms ached, but I dared not falter. Not while my men were still fighting. Slowly, almost imperceptibly, the tide began to turn. The withering hail of arrows had thinned the ranks of the undead, and our desperate attacks had begun to chip away at their edges. With a final, ear-splitting roar, I drove my sword through the chest of a particularly large and nasty-looking monster, and it collapsed at my feet.
The remaining enemy scattered, fleeing before us like rats. The field of Zdenka was ours.
Exhaustion crashed over me like a wave. I slumped against a broken wagon wheel, the cheers of my men a distant echo in my ears. I had survived, and so had most of my company. But at what cost?
-Firsthand account from Aric Highvale
Contents
Battle in Zdenka
message to all nobles participating in the battle in Zdenka
Battle Results
(Personal message)
