They March Again

[Praetor 1550]

 

 

Spoiler

 

 

 

 

They march again

 

Few grown men could claim to have never set foot on the battlefield. From a young age, the men of Oren were brought up on the legends of their ancestors. Great soldiers and knights who faced every threat with bravery and an unquenchable fire in their hearts. With age, their visions changed. These heroes were no longer shining titans that wielded sword and mace like toys, scattering the stunted dwarves and hulking orcs like chaff on the wind.

 

They became real men, their brothers in arms and their captains. They became another pair of boots in the mud, standing beside them as they braced for the charge. Legends became reality and in that, they lost their shining splendor. Instead, they gained the everlasting respect of those men that marched with them into battle.

 

 

Few grown men could claim to have never set foot on the battlefield. Even fewer would dream of refusing the call of their Emperor when the time to cross swords with their foes once more crested the horizon. When the mustering horn echoed through the sprawling streets of Johannesburg, the men of Oren were swift to pick up their swords and don their armor. Their wives wept but watched with pride as they left the household they fought so hard to protect. As the men gathered together in the barracks, many who had not seen each other in months once more clasped arms and traded stories of their new lives. Some felt fear, who could blame them? To dread the battlefield yet march onwards was the symbol of human perseverance and faith. Every man who fell to the craven dwed was a man who had found his place besides God, and the Emperors who had served him in the past.

 

 

With many a trumpet blaring their praise, the men formed ranks in the courtyard of the Bastille, falling back into the familiar discipline of the well-oiled Imperial Army. At their head, Sir Leopold turned to look at them, a smile creasing his battle-worn face. He had once been one of those young men who now stood before him, their eyes shining with excitement and fervor. Many would die, and that thought lanced through his heart like an arrow. However, they would not die in vain. The blood they spilled, more than any brick in the city walls, held up Oren higher than all its foes.

 

“Ave Imperium!” He yelled, and beside him the banner man brought his horn to his lips and blew a loud, clear note. It rang high into the heavens, a call ascending to the realm of the one true God.

 

Few grown men could claim to have never set foot on the battlefield. Today, the Imperial Army marched towards it again, today, they brought victory to their Emperor.

 

(+1 pls)

 

 

[Dohvi 622]

Moved to the Archive. If you feel this is a mistake, please contact myself or any FM and we'll restore it.