THE ADRIAN DEFEAT

[trinn 5146]

 

THE ADRIAN DEFEAT

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[!] A depiction of the Adrian Capital, Ves, circa 1715.

 

Underneath the blistering sun and its unappeasable heat, the clattering of the Renatian cavalry withdrew from the walls of Ves, their resolve firm and their spirits elated from a glorious victory. The sound of hooves upon the old, cracked paving stones enjoined with the raised voices and whoops of victory to create a beautiful chorus.

 

Their arrival to Adria was dreaded, but hardly unexpected. The treacherous rebellion incited by the Adrians, and their equally flighty accomplices, had insulted the Throne and the honour of the Renatians - vengeance was demanded, and the loyal soldiers were only too happy to bring its hour closer.

 

The Renatians marched against a force double their magnitude, spilling the blood of the enemies and losing men in return across the open plains and great fields. However, only one side could be triumphant. With GOD’s grace, Imperial forces repulsed that of their enemies, leaving them with no men to defend their recreant practices. The corpses lay, piled across the road, no succour given to their burial or final rites. Everywhere the fallen Adrians were surrounded by crows, fallen to peck at their discarded entrails.

 

Their loss was verily pitiful, costing them a pair of their scheming leaders; two men of House Ashford de Falstaff, once revered and respected men, now disgraced by their aimless lust for power.

 

The Adrian populaces’ numerous accounts of perfidy will be never forgotten. As this force was punished, so shall all who raise arms against the Empire until they come, cloth in naught but ashes and laying upon their knees in supplication.

 

Within the ensuing chaos and clashes of steel that preceded the final soldier’s death, one soldier could be heard ushering out sweet words with a light smirk:

 

“The 86th Grievance.”

 

[TankM1A2 840]

Ser Carlovac has lived through too many wars and simply wishes to die

[Harri 4815]

daniel wishes to commit the one hundredth one

[Baudouin 160]

*The memories are all too fresh in Theodosius’ mind of slaughtering soldier and civilian alike from horseback, the stench of the bodies still in his nose – their blood still on his lips.... was it his? He needed to think.*