[RPG] [FEI][GLoL] A bloody few days

[Jos Groenewegen]

As the morning sun rose light rushed across the lands, the fields infront of
the ruined walls of Osaliel once more blood red, still drenched in the blood
of the earlier fights.

Gialon stared out coldly towards the blood red field, standing on the rubble
of the walls, his blue eyes taking in the field calmly, coolly, saying in a
cool voice as he heard the familiar footfall of his captain, Engelbrecht
behind him;



"Yes captain, what is it?"



Engelbrecht grinned slightly, realising he'd once more been recognized,
saying with the grin still on his face;



"Morning again Sir, time to prepare, more fighting to be done against
Solifernum,  time for the men to earn their wages!"



Gialon sighed slightly as he heard his captain's enthousiasm, turning
around, pulling his eyes away from the blood soaked field infront of him,
and giving a slight nod. Adjusting the strap of his sword, pressing it
closer to his body, and striding away from the rubble swiftly, saying as he
moved;



"Assemble the men then captain, and have them ready."



Engelbrecht nodded slightly, quickly rushing off to gather the unit and have
them join the formation being set up outside of the walls swiftly.

Gialon smiled sadly, staring once more to the rubble, wondering how many
more days this fighting would continue. After a moment he tore his gaze away
from the ruined city walls, striding to his camp.





After putting on the rest of his armor Gialon strode out of the small field
tent his men had erected at the base of the city walls, looking towards the
small pen, holding the light, white haired, courser he sometimes rode.
Gazing over the horse calmly, watching as it stamped it's feet slightly,
clearly eager to get out, a small smile spreading across Gialon's lips,
before he strode away resolutely. Today, he would fight on foot, right
alongside his men.





As the sun drew higher standing among his men, in the ranks of the army,
Gialon's eyes surveyed the bloodied field infront of him once more. The same
field they'd fought on last night, and the morning before, atleast keeping
the fighting out of the city. His eyes slowly travelled to the Soliferum
lines, looking them over carefully, noticing swiftly how many men were fresh
recruits, and how many nobles were missing, wounded in the previous fights.



A sad smile passed across Gialon's face for a moment, before he drew his
sword, striding forward determinedly with his men as the horns to attack
sounded.

In the fore of his men, Gialon charged forward, swiftly meeting the
Soliferum lines, likewise charging.



Gialon's finely made, yet unadorned, steel blade rose swiftly, gashing down
again, slashing into the Soliferum lines. His men stood beside him,
Engelbrecht always at his side, deflecting any blows that might come for
their lord. Gialon's blade whirled through the air, slashing into the
Soliferum lines infront of him, meeting blows and flesh of the Soliferum
soldiers. One moment, his unit pressing forward, Gialon met blades with a
young soldier. Easily deflecting the young, inexperienced soldiers blow
Gialon's blade tore into him,  driving easily into the young man's gut,
blood seeping out. Gialon's eyes met the gaze of the young man he'd just
gutted. Staring into those eyes, seeing the fear of death, the pain
reflected there, Gialon's eyes icy cold, determined, before he withdrew his
blade, letting the lifeless corpse fall at his feet.



The instant of distraction was enough,his men suddenly seeing charging
forward, breaking through the enemy lines as they'd slashed a gap. His eyes
quickly darting over his mens flank, seeing the Soliferum troops gathering
there, Gialon muttered a curse, realising the danger his men were in.



Yet even before he had a chance to call out he saw Engelbrecht rally the
men, quickly drawing them back, the Soliferum men cutting into them heavily,
several of the men dragged back, wounded, yet the unit saved.



Surveying the rest of the battlefield, seeing Soliferum's lines slowly
collapse again, Gialon sheathed his blade, saying clearly to his men, in a
commanding voice;



"Back to the camp, we have wounded to see to, and others will attain victory
today."



As his men swiftly carried their wounded comrades back to the camp, Gialon
stayed behind for a moment, his eyes gazing over the red field, stepped once
more in the blood of the soldiers. His eyes still calm, determined,
realising all too well he would be there, fighting again, tonight, before he
strode back after his men to his encampment.


-- 
Si hoc legere scis nimium eruditionis habes
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