Deleted member 6409
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Club Umbra
The Voting Rune
Constellation Builder
- Jun 22, 2023
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MerlotBeauty
Come face the Music with me...
Mist hung heavy in the early morning air. The cool droplets of water made the battlefield seem surreal. It weakened the vision of the Trilion scouts and allowed the Eserian tribes to spread themselves out and lie in wait. The two armies met several times, each dealing significant damage to the other, but in very different ways.
Protected by iron reinforced leathers, the Trilion infantry withstood the constant Eserian raids. Wild assaults broke against the shield walls, while spears of calvary counter charged. In ratio of living to dead, the Trilion soldiers came out on top of the butcher's bill, slaying three foes for every lost sword. Their supply lines, on the other hand, didn't fare as well.
While veteran warriors pummeled the Trilion legionaries, the younger, more vibrant caste engaged the slave battalion that maintained the trade routes. Unwilling and unskilled in the art of war, even with the support of legion commanders, the slaves threw away their weapons or rebelled. That's why, on that fateful morning, the Trilion soldier's bellies roared with hunger and their fighting spirits waned.
With half their forces starving, the Trilion generals prepared an attack on a farming hamlet a few miles off their planned route. The wisdom of the Eserian people allowed them to pick the field of battle. When the legionaries appeared atop the hill's crest, a large force came out of hiding. As they did, the forest mist followed them. The two forces, one of man and one of nature, stopped the Trilions in their tracks.
The forced march left the soldiers tired as well as hungry. Apprehension spread like a disease through the ranks, but the Centurions kept their people in formation. When the drums of war sounded, the phalanx formed. A perimeter of iron encased the Trilion forces. The massive shields, their front line warriors carried, locked against one another as they advanced. The dense mist hovering before them hid the Eserian warriors until the last second. Despite dozens of half-naked foes, covered in war paint and wielding weapons of bone, stone, wood, and in some cases crude metal, the unyielding walls of the Trilion legion didn't break.
Armies with less discipline would've scattered at the war cries unleashed by the Eserians, but the Trilions answered with force. The soldiers in the second line raised their spears overhead and thrust iron spikes into the Eserians' unarmored bodies. Those that didn't fall found tiny gaps opening in the shield wall. From these, short swords appeared, which rended flesh and disemboweled any that got close.
Countless retreats and feints by the Eserians kept them alive. Without the weight of iron on their backs, they moved much faster than the Trilion legionaries. They also outnumbered them five to one, allowing small groups to appear and disappear with little effort, giving their warriors time to rest. In ages past, this saved the Eserians, but centuries of wars taught the Trilions many lessons. After several minutes, the first line of soldiers retreated as a second group of shieldsmen charged forward. Fresh spearmen also took the place of those who labored in battle. They kept the front line fresh and gave the rear ranks time to drink and replenish their strength.
Even with their stomachs empty, the Trilion legionnaires held their own in battle. Their generals issued orders from the center of the army; three voices speaking as one. Then the tide turned. Instead of attacking in a single mass, the Eserians began striking at three different areas at once. It stole the cohesion of the generals, each of whom concentrated their minds toward one of the three enemy groups. The constant feints and retreats started to pull the Trilion lines apart. Their training and experience allowed the legionnaires to regroup as they separated, keeping an intact shield wall on all sides of their forces. However, it didn't take long for them to wander so far apart that the Eserians encircled the divided army.
A set of trumpets blared, summoning the Trilion calvary, but none answered the call. While held in reserve, over the hill's peak, they'd let down their guard. At the sound of the trumpets, they were to ride forth with heavy lances to skewer or run down any Eserian foolish enough to stand their ground. However, they'd implemented this tactic so many times in their campaign that the Eserians prepared a surprise for them. A host, two hundred hunters, crept through the forest and emptied their quivers into the backs of the calvary. After the sustained volley, the decimated division didn't stand a chance. None of the riders, nor their mounts, survived the bloody onslaught.
When a new horde of Eserian warriors crested the hill instead of their calvary, the iron will of the Trilions faltered; one of the three squares sank in on itself and disappeared. The trill of whistles continued to sound the retreat of the first line. But in their haste to deal with the incoming foes, the second square moved too far. They lost access to their dwindling supply of water. Though each row got a moment's respite, they soon found themselves at the mercy of a superior force. The Trilions asked for no quarter, and the Eserians gave none.
Alone, in the center of an unyielding horde of bloodthirsty savages, the last breath of the Trilion legion fought like warrior kings. Their shields, though battered and twisted, held firm against the relentless ravages of the Eserian attacks. Though no hope remained in their hearts, they fought to survive for just a moment longer.
Then, the mist lifted, and the rays of the morning sun fell upon the legionnaires. The arrival of their most beloved god, carting the sun across the sky gave them a fervor yet unknown to their foes. With sword and spear, they carved their way toward freedom. It seemed they might survive, but the magic of this barbarian land fell upon them with equal force. Thick, dark clouds ebbed across the sky like sea foam on the head of a wave. A single crack of lightning leaped between the clouds before they enveloped the sun. The boom of the following thunder caused the heavens to weep. As the fat, heavy drops of water clung to the metal shields, each legionnaire's arm grew brutally tired. Though they spent their lives at war, they didn't have the might to heft their bulwark a moment longer.
Death's tide crashed into the desperation of those fighting for their last breath. The fallen laying on the ground favored the legion. However, the number of foes between them and another day of life crushed their essence. As the rain beat down, the legion's last member expired on the blade of her foe. Three thousand soldiers marched into Esera, but none could leave. That is how my true life began. Sit, and listen to my tale friends, for this is but the epilogue of mine and my true love's destiny.
Come face the Music with me...
Mist hung heavy in the early morning air. The cool droplets of water made the battlefield seem surreal. It weakened the vision of the Trilion scouts and allowed the Eserian tribes to spread themselves out and lie in wait. The two armies met several times, each dealing significant damage to the other, but in very different ways.
Protected by iron reinforced leathers, the Trilion infantry withstood the constant Eserian raids. Wild assaults broke against the shield walls, while spears of calvary counter charged. In ratio of living to dead, the Trilion soldiers came out on top of the butcher's bill, slaying three foes for every lost sword. Their supply lines, on the other hand, didn't fare as well.
While veteran warriors pummeled the Trilion legionaries, the younger, more vibrant caste engaged the slave battalion that maintained the trade routes. Unwilling and unskilled in the art of war, even with the support of legion commanders, the slaves threw away their weapons or rebelled. That's why, on that fateful morning, the Trilion soldier's bellies roared with hunger and their fighting spirits waned.
With half their forces starving, the Trilion generals prepared an attack on a farming hamlet a few miles off their planned route. The wisdom of the Eserian people allowed them to pick the field of battle. When the legionaries appeared atop the hill's crest, a large force came out of hiding. As they did, the forest mist followed them. The two forces, one of man and one of nature, stopped the Trilions in their tracks.
The forced march left the soldiers tired as well as hungry. Apprehension spread like a disease through the ranks, but the Centurions kept their people in formation. When the drums of war sounded, the phalanx formed. A perimeter of iron encased the Trilion forces. The massive shields, their front line warriors carried, locked against one another as they advanced. The dense mist hovering before them hid the Eserian warriors until the last second. Despite dozens of half-naked foes, covered in war paint and wielding weapons of bone, stone, wood, and in some cases crude metal, the unyielding walls of the Trilion legion didn't break.
Armies with less discipline would've scattered at the war cries unleashed by the Eserians, but the Trilions answered with force. The soldiers in the second line raised their spears overhead and thrust iron spikes into the Eserians' unarmored bodies. Those that didn't fall found tiny gaps opening in the shield wall. From these, short swords appeared, which rended flesh and disemboweled any that got close.
Countless retreats and feints by the Eserians kept them alive. Without the weight of iron on their backs, they moved much faster than the Trilion legionaries. They also outnumbered them five to one, allowing small groups to appear and disappear with little effort, giving their warriors time to rest. In ages past, this saved the Eserians, but centuries of wars taught the Trilions many lessons. After several minutes, the first line of soldiers retreated as a second group of shieldsmen charged forward. Fresh spearmen also took the place of those who labored in battle. They kept the front line fresh and gave the rear ranks time to drink and replenish their strength.
Even with their stomachs empty, the Trilion legionnaires held their own in battle. Their generals issued orders from the center of the army; three voices speaking as one. Then the tide turned. Instead of attacking in a single mass, the Eserians began striking at three different areas at once. It stole the cohesion of the generals, each of whom concentrated their minds toward one of the three enemy groups. The constant feints and retreats started to pull the Trilion lines apart. Their training and experience allowed the legionnaires to regroup as they separated, keeping an intact shield wall on all sides of their forces. However, it didn't take long for them to wander so far apart that the Eserians encircled the divided army.
A set of trumpets blared, summoning the Trilion calvary, but none answered the call. While held in reserve, over the hill's peak, they'd let down their guard. At the sound of the trumpets, they were to ride forth with heavy lances to skewer or run down any Eserian foolish enough to stand their ground. However, they'd implemented this tactic so many times in their campaign that the Eserians prepared a surprise for them. A host, two hundred hunters, crept through the forest and emptied their quivers into the backs of the calvary. After the sustained volley, the decimated division didn't stand a chance. None of the riders, nor their mounts, survived the bloody onslaught.
When a new horde of Eserian warriors crested the hill instead of their calvary, the iron will of the Trilions faltered; one of the three squares sank in on itself and disappeared. The trill of whistles continued to sound the retreat of the first line. But in their haste to deal with the incoming foes, the second square moved too far. They lost access to their dwindling supply of water. Though each row got a moment's respite, they soon found themselves at the mercy of a superior force. The Trilions asked for no quarter, and the Eserians gave none.
Alone, in the center of an unyielding horde of bloodthirsty savages, the last breath of the Trilion legion fought like warrior kings. Their shields, though battered and twisted, held firm against the relentless ravages of the Eserian attacks. Though no hope remained in their hearts, they fought to survive for just a moment longer.
Then, the mist lifted, and the rays of the morning sun fell upon the legionnaires. The arrival of their most beloved god, carting the sun across the sky gave them a fervor yet unknown to their foes. With sword and spear, they carved their way toward freedom. It seemed they might survive, but the magic of this barbarian land fell upon them with equal force. Thick, dark clouds ebbed across the sky like sea foam on the head of a wave. A single crack of lightning leaped between the clouds before they enveloped the sun. The boom of the following thunder caused the heavens to weep. As the fat, heavy drops of water clung to the metal shields, each legionnaire's arm grew brutally tired. Though they spent their lives at war, they didn't have the might to heft their bulwark a moment longer.
Death's tide crashed into the desperation of those fighting for their last breath. The fallen laying on the ground favored the legion. However, the number of foes between them and another day of life crushed their essence. As the rain beat down, the legion's last member expired on the blade of her foe. Three thousand soldiers marched into Esera, but none could leave. That is how my true life began. Sit, and listen to my tale friends, for this is but the epilogue of mine and my true love's destiny.
