seannie 6832 Share Posted February 7, 2022 TO WISH UPON A STAR TALES FROM THE WAR Captain of the Nauzica Brigade, MAXIM ATTENLUND, Commander of the Accord’s Western Flank at Petra The Waldenian Star flying high above Petra There could be no better day for a battle, Maxim believed to himself as he stewed in his thoughts, sat as comfortably as possible upon his steed, Attenlund. The horizon was clear of all forecast, and the sun truly smiled it’s sun’s smile upon all gathered below its warmth. Prior to the pitching of the opposing armies, the Tripartite had convened to discuss matters of the battle, ultimately seeing to the decentralization of hierarchy as commanders were given control of their own detachments, Maxim being one of such leaders. He would lead a detachment of cavalry along the flanks of the allied armies, serving as a foreguard for any potential flanking incursion. It was to be a simple affair. The Nauzican further thought to himself, as if in doing so, he would muster up some additional courage for the trials ahead. Afterall, truth be told, preliminary reports did detail the Tripartite outweighing the Orenian’s forces by a division or two - what need for caution was there? A general advance would see the enemy crushed under such sheer pressure and routed from the battlefield, surely. So was the thought anyway. “NARVAK OZ URGUAN, ADVANCE!” “Cavalry, west flank!” Complacency won the battle that day, for as the main lines converged upon Jarad’s Tavern, a surge of Renatians swelled forth from behind the many hedgerows of the Petran fields, charging towards the rear of the allied forces. It was realized far too late that the Orenians had divided their forces despite lacking the numbers, and had taken the Tripartite rear by surprise while their main lines kept the allies in place. And so, detached from the main engagement, Maxim’s own outnumbered division pivoted to face the onslaught despite the odds, hoping to at least give time to reorganize formations. The Orenian’s Arn van Aert’s charge collapsing Maxim’s own flank But it was for naught. The Renatian cavalry had punched through solidly, breaking apart the foreline and crashing into the main bulk of the Accord. The Nauzica Captain himself felled from his horse as a lance collided with his breastplate in the initial charge, sending the northerner spiraling to the ground with such force that the world turned black. His thoughts overtook him during such incapacitation as he laid halfway between the eternal damnation of the Void and Life - floating along aimlessly in the endless abyss as he pondered upon the circumstances that had led up to this point throughout his life as one would so stereotypically do before death. From his youth upon the slopes of the Rimveld, to his enlistment in the Haeseni Army, and finally his fated meeting with the Prince of Alstion. What purpose had his life served until then? Made to serve under the selfish tendencies of others, forced to conform to ambitions so miniscule. What led him to fight alongside heathens and halfmen against the Orenian cause, an ideal he strived for in such convoluted ways? He continued in this purgatory for what seemed to be an eternity until his mind was cleared by the radiant light of an ivory throne further illuminated by singular star shining bright. As the cries of battle came and went, the fallen Maxim had finally blinked his eyes open, a weary gaze set to the skies as he remained sprawled on his back. Through such concussion induced delusions, he sighted a great comet shining through the blue expanse high above, its fiery tail streaking across the horizon. Such an auspicious omen, for one who was so close to meeting his Maker. Perhaps a wish was to be in order, or perhaps a curse had befallen some unlucky few? Nevertheless, what he saw in the comet was the ascendance of the House of Alstion, claiming their rightful place amongst the Seven Heavens. The sounds of hooves made their way closer, and a similarly dressed man appeared, only later realized as William, the brother of his Alstionite liege. The cacophony of battle still rang true in the distance, though such sounds turned to panicked screams as the rout seemingly began. Stripped of his possessions, the lordling had hefted Maxim on his back and upon the horse, smacking the destrier forth to the retreating allies falling back to Haverlock. It seemed this Nauzican would live to see another battle, Reinvigorated for a cause greater than himself. The Glorious Dead, finally given respite from their worldly challenges 21 Link to post Share on other sites More sharing options...
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wolfdwg 1497 Share Posted February 7, 2022 Spoiler Great post, excellent writing seannie +1 my lost brother. 2 Link to post Share on other sites More sharing options...
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