A perspective from Bult Wick
Bult woke up from a deep sleep, bells being rung throughout the city. Distance shouts "RALLY MEN AND WOMEN, THE HORDES OF OREN ARE ON THEIR WAY TO RAID!" He quickly lept up out of his bed, grabbing ahold of his sword and taking the reigns of his horse, slowly making his way into the town centre. A quick glance around the square, a bright reflection hitting his eyes from the mass of soldiers decked out in their armour. Moving over to the group, mounting his horse and joining alongside Maxim Attenlund.
"THEY'RE HERE!"
"CHARGE!"
The gates of the city suddenly opened, a clanking of armour could be heard throughout the city as the Alliance charged out. A mighty clash incurred, arrows flying over the soldiers and pelting the ferrymen and imperial soldiers. Bodies of the imperials rolling down the hill, soaked in blood. Clashing of swords, decapitated heads and dead horses littered the main road leading to Karosgrad.
"THEY'RE RETREATING, CHARGE!"
Bult sat on his horse, running down the retreating imperials and ferrymen. The look of fear on very imperial soldier retreating was clear to those on the chase. They were terrified, being split up from the main bulk of the force and being slaughtered in the snow. Only a small amount of imperials with a tiny bit of courage turned, attempting to help their fleeing comrades but only to be put to the dirt. Imperial and ferrymen horsemen flying in the air from the mighty cavalry of the Orcs and Haense. Once fallen, surrounded by courageous soldiers, ripping the enemy cavalry to pieces, taking their spoils of war.
The alliance came upon the new founded ferrymen keep, soldiers cowering inside, hiding behind their dozens of traps which they thought people would fall for. However, the Alliance is much smarter then that, they pulled back onto a frozen pond and patiently waited for the ferrymen to charge out once again. Their greed for the alliances materials and weaponry got the better of them, all logic got thrown into the pond, overridden with pride and greed. A dozen clashed occured once again which ultimately led to their downfall. Their greed for war riches was their downfall.
The enemy pulled right back into their keep, hiding once again to never emerge. The alliance turned on their horses, heading back to home after a massive victory, the snow littered with imperial and ferrymen soldiers. Only but a few stragglers of Oren remained outside, scrambling to save their lives after being abandoned by their own army. Desperate to get away, they somehow made their way infront of Karosgrad, only to be cut down like the dogs they are.
"VICTORY"