Arcaea/Battle for Paplarmi

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Alpha surveyed the field, the attackers had broken his lines. More of them had arrived than expected, and the situation was compounded by rogue forces in the region. He'd witnessed many Kindara nobles fall to wounds, and he saw his son unhorsed in the initial charge. He ordered his personal guard to hold so that the Emerald Legion could retreat in good order, but there was no time. The enemy infantry was already upon him.

A company of pikemen, wearing the old colors of Batesaor, pressed hard against his archers. Alpha’s archers were not prepared for the assault. Duchess Gloria’s troop had fought with a great fury for the entirety of the battle. Alpha thrust his sword into one of the assailants, the man dropped. He attempted to fall back, but the Solarhin was upon him. He was much slower now than in his prime. He blocked an incoming blow with his shield, which was then torn from his grasp by another strike. A sword struck against his helm, knocking the old man off balance, and from the side, Alpha saw a pike coming and felt the cold steel pierce his breastplate. A deep wound, into his lungs. A mortal wound, he knew.

The sword fell from his hand. Every breath brought blood to his mouth. Time slowed and he knew he was old, he had fought more battles than he could remember, and seen friends meet the fate that was now his own. He stumbled, falling to a knee, just a moment to catch his breath. Alpha saw another glint of a sword in the morning’s rising sun, then red, and then only black.