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Turning the Nordling March: The Battle of Outer Arentania


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1821, The Battle of Outer Arentania

An Artillery Officer’s Perspective

 

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The Emperor, protected by his guard, oversees the fighting below. The mountains of Oren’s Outer Arentania region are visible in the background.

 


 

The following account comes from a low-ranking Imperial officer of the State Army’s artillery, who gave us this for publishing free of payment.

 

“The Nordlings weren’t marching when they declared war. I reckon they were planning on having significant help before meeting on the field, but those big old gears of government started turning. The diplomats got a small country with a ton of mercenaries on our side and closed off Haynes to the Urgwanese and Haylunoorese armies coming by ship. So, it turns out war involves a lot more talking than shooting.

 

Our borders were made secure, and the navy was patrolling the sea well, so most of the army and those mercenary fellows were sent westward into Arentania. All in all, including the general staff and camp helpers, there must have been about one-hundred thousand of us camped along the river near Esbeck in the winter of 1820. The season was mild, and we were in the supply of the towns nearby, so it was no hardship at all.

 

There were Southbridge men acting as scouts in the mountains, living up there and reporting back anything they saw of the enemy advance. Come springtime, it turns out the Nordling king and his mercenaries weren’t planning on a direct invasion, but were trying to sneak by the mountains to join Urgwan in Oltremont. 

 

The Emperor, the General, and all the dressy officers from here and the Luciensberg country got together in a long meeting. Mountain folk and the like were called up and sent to bolster the range and keep any enemy scouts from getting an eye on our land. Meanwhile we waited for a word to pack up and move any morning.

 

It was warmed up nicely in 1821 by Tobias’ month, which turned out a sweating shame, because we were ordered to march for a mountain pass straight to our west on the second. We all camped a night high up, then reached the fields across at noontime. Some of the enlisted claimed to have seen Nordling banners in the distance while descending, but it was either plain silliness or just being kept mum by the brass for to keep the ranks in line.

 

We were ordered to battle ranks at half past three on the third of Tobias’ Bounty, 1821. There was a rise before us, and the mountains on our right flank, so I was deployed with all the field guns behind the squares of infantry to fire over them. Thousands of cavalrymen were on our left. You could see gentlemen and their friends from around the country, the third brigade with their pretty plumes, and a ton of fellows from Luciensberg southward and Haynes northward all in armor.

 

I was regularly checking my watch, so I knew it was a quarter past four when we advanced up the rise. All the cavalry rode to the valley on our left, and we took the artillery by horse in step with the infantry going straight up. We reached the top after a few minutes, and saw nothing at all, but we could hear something terrible in that valley on our left.

 

It turns out the Nordlings had mistaken the cavalry for the whole army and sent every one of their men in a great big mass through that valley in pursuit. The infantry pulled a double time turn and made their way there, and we artillerists followed along as best we could. They all kept an incredible tempo, while we had only unlimbered half our pieces by the time the blood started.

 

The cavalry was pacing away from the Nordlings running, but that’s what they do. The third brigadiers would ride for the enemy, slow, turn, discharge their weapons into the infantry, then wheel about to reload and have it again. The lancers and all the horsemen who get stuck in were waiting aways, looking up for the infantrymen to make things nice and open for them.

 

The troopers went on for killing, and our way was cleared to fire. The Nordlings only had something near half our numbers on the field, but they were so bunched up that our target was the size of a Kaedreni barn. Since the enemy was so intent to race on foot with horses, they ended up with the Imperial infantry trapping them from behind and on the left flank by the time we’d put through three volleys.

 

Our cavalry smashed into their exposed side with lances after that, then pulled out swords and sabers to stay in close to help the infantry. We stopped firing to keep from wounding our own. I kept an eye on my watch here, seeing two minutes pass before the Nordlings began to flee through gaps in our ranks. The enemy reformed in some parts, keeping on the fight with our infantry, but most were scattered and ran down by the gentlemen domestic, foreign, and Horen in the cavalry. 

 

I saw fellows with great, long wigs fighting alongside men with their temples shaved. I know a few generations back they’d have been mortal enemies. But the world’s much bigger these days, so we’ve less reason to go at each other's throats. I don’t wear a wig, for I’m not bald, but I keep it long in a style tied at the back, which is looked at well these days. It’s washed to keep it apart from the matted Nordling type, of course.

 

- J. Fitzpeter”

 

 

Published and distributed by Penton-Napier Publishing, 1821.

 

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Edwin reads the account, chuckling as he realized what truly happened on the field. "The chaos had painted to me an entirely different idea of how the battle played out, but this source seems the correct one. Well written!"

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