THE BATTLE OF HELENA FIELDS
9th of the Deep Cold, 1715
An account by Octavian Horen
Shock ran through the ranks of the Imperium Renatum at the haphazard plan of the Marnans was executed; A plan lacking tact, it seems, for it led their cavalry to the gates of Renatus. A retinue containing five thousand soldiers from all reaches of their weak alliance perched between the end of Carolus’ Bridge and the keep of Ser Darius Ault, stared towards the entrance of the city, readied their blades and their formations.
A few hours after their adversaries arrived, the Imperium Renatum sallied forth with an equal amount of soldiers. Perhaps they waited to even the odds, to allow the rebel hordes to rally and prepare, and to alleviate the blatant foolishness that encompassed their plans. Nonetheless, the mercy bestowed upon them was meaningless, in the end, as seen throughout the Saint’s week:
The Battle of Adria
The Battle of Lower Rodenburg
The Battle of Nordengrad
The Second Battle of Upper Rodenburg
Even more so than that, the Second Battle of Upper Rodenburg happened mere moments prior to this. It makes sense that this paltry attempt was to retaliate and to perhaps instill in themselves a false sense of fortitude. It ended in embarrassment for the Orenians, another addition to a series of losses.
The horns sounded and the two forces clashed together in a fierce pit of clattering blades, spilling blood and the descent of bodies to the ground. Fighting was underway. Yet, whilst this was synonymous across the ranks of the Imperium Renatum, it was not the case for the Haeseni Empire. The cowards of the opposing side did not charge with their brethren - the Snow Elves, namely, held back and routed within the first seconds, their senses overcome with primal fight-or-flight instincts.
The aftermath of the scene was as could have been expected - mounds of bodies stacked up at the end of Carolus’ Bridge and a veritable roadblock to Renatus’ magnificent capital, built by what was essentially mass suicide.
“Gather up the survivors!” barked Prince Martinus, waving his gilded appendage overhead, the sun’s radiance cascading off its exterior.
The survivors were gathered and the line to the guillotine extended so far that the last of the prisoners tread upon the bodies of their deceased allies (a recurring problem for the Legionnaires). Among them, another rebel leader was executed at the hands of Ser Rodrik. The Paramount Knight of Haense, Dominic Grimm head rolled to the bottom of an empty, makeshift pit.
He was not alone, though, for in the aftermath of the battle, more leadership was captured and executed. Two of the Tundrak bloodline were dragged upon the wooden platform bearing the guillotine and two left headless; Aelthos Tundrak, the Fennic Crown Prince had faltered once again; Akin to Dominic, their heads rolled into the makeshift pit, bereft of bodies. The Marnan sympathizers, for their loyalty to traitors, would fill the pit to the brim by the end of ave and would go to fill three more by the end of the week.
Let me put stress on the fact these feeble, weak men had rallied twice in the space of a saints hour and lost both in mere seconds.
And to the ever observant Silver State, witnesses of the 98th grievance, we welcome you.