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Redbaron™

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  1. Rowan and a few others help the monks take the body.  As he watches the carriage move down the road he dusts off his hands and looks to his comrades

     

    "Are they so stupid?   Losing a war and then try and piss off the winners.  This is why they never win anything."

     

    Sighs and rubs his temples, walking back to Hammertruppen's quarters.

  2. Rowan Hightower Point of view

     

    roman_legionary_by_pler0-d5lvsyi.jpg

     

     

    Rowan's hot breath spilled into the cold northern air as he stood on Vekaro's walls.  His emerald eyes surveying the coming army of Sariants and Dwarves.  Their banners blowing in the wind as they begin to set up barricades and rain arrows onto the Imperium soldiers.  His axe appears in hand when the enemy army marches forward, picking off a few Decturem stragglers in front of the gate house.   His comrade's growing uneasy around him until the war horn sounds off.  The marshal screams the order to sally out.  Rowan follows his officer Arthal Lowledge before stepping past him as Arthal drives his sword right through Onar Ireheart, the sword emerging from the dead dwarf's body in a shower of crimson blood.

     

    After being sprayed with blood from the fallen dwarf he spots a Sariant ahead of him, his axe in hand he strikes the unsuspecting Sariant on the collar bone, the axe going deep into it's body, flesh and bone giving way to the powerful blow as the screams of terror erupt from the Sariant's mouth.   It's eyes filled with terror as he falls to the ground in a motionless slump.   Rowan bends over and picks up the bow and arrows that was on the body, looking up and watching the Imperium troops moping up the enemy army, Dwarves and Sariants running as they are cut down by the soldiers or shot by the Elven marksmen.

  3. Lancel Hightower, now old in years, hears about one of the last members of old Oren pass into the seven skies.  He feels nothing but sadness, not for the man who died, but for the memories that are slowly fading and all reminiscent people of such a grand time slowly passing to dine with Godfrey.

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