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The Emperor's Sword


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The Emperor's Sword

 

 

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The city of Providence buzzed with excitement throughout the day. Sharing their common purpose and resolve, men and women gathered that day from all corners of the Empire.  Subjects, soldiers, peers and civilians alike, stood together at the gates of Providence, ranging from the small town of Esbec to the southern mountains near Redenford. Officers of the Imperial State army hurried throughout the crowd, issuing red and blue flags to each attendee. By the early afternoon, the rays of the sun glistened on the assembled as each Orenian was outfitted. 

 

The General Peter d’Arkent, the Foreign Minister Peter Alexander d’Arkent, and Prince John Charles stood side by side beneath the gates, addressing the legion of Orenians. The General rendered a salute, carefully enclosing his fist, placing it over his heart as he straightened his frame. The Imperial Reds returned in unison, as they were addressed by His Imperial Majesty’s commander.

 

“Orenians!” The General’s voice boomed out over the throng. “Today we fight for the Emperor, to measure our capabilities to defend our country. As the Emperor’s Sword, we sharpen our fortitude! ” Banners of red and blue were erected amidst the crowd. 

 

The Prince spoke next: “Move to your banners and follow the captains to the rally point.”

 

The mass of Orenians rearranged themselves, locating their teams. “And March!” Ordered the General. The ground shook as the regiment of over eighty thousand marched down from the gates of Providence. The legions of red and blue formed up around their respective banners. The Prince, the General and the Minister beamed in pride as silence befell the crowd, awaiting their orders.
 

The Orenian forces shifted in anticipation. 

 

The Minister’s voice rang out once more. “Begin!”

 

The General and Captain Ruthern’s calls came in unison. “Charge! For Providence! For the Empire!” 

 

The air thundered. The bridge shuddered. The crowd exploded in a chorus. 

 

“For the empire!”

 

The lines of Orenians collided. The sound of steal on dulled steal rang with the fury and pride of thousands of civilians and soldiers alike. The skirmish continued throughout the day, fueled by the youthful Sun’s Smile from the sky.

 

The whetstone of labor and loyalty grinded the Emperor’s Sword ever sharper.




 

Edited by KosherZombie
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"That's a lot of people," says Franz, looking over the assembly of soldiers.

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"The might of the Imperial State Army and its Reserve Corps has no limits.

 

With such an organized and coordinated force our country, our Empire, is certainly invincible!

 

FOR THE EMPIRE!"

 

Leonard Halcourt, Ensign of the 1st Brigade of the Imperial State Army, would state before preparing himself for the skirmish that occured a couple of months ago.

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Deep within the ranks of the Imperial regiment, the old Minister cracks his back as he wields his blade.

 

"For the Empire."

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Lieutenant Robert Archibald Galbraith would recollect memories of the skirmish smiling widely

 

Edited by Galbraith Man
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Caspian smiled as he helped people back to their feet once the skirmish was over, ready for another good round.

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Beryl Jasper Carrington grumbles, wishing he could've been at the war-games.

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Captain Ruthern sits in his office cleaning his armor following the wargames, "The Empire stands ready." Erik smiles as he recalls leading the first charge across the bridge. 

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