Run away....run away!
Posted: Wed Apr 26, 2023 12:21 pm
It had all started so well, that rousing pre-battle speech by Commander Lamarr, all the troops cheering and shouting how they were going to send those swine Lunarites packing and then....well.....this really.....
Young Broar sat dejectedly amongst the remnants of the regiment, where before there had been hundreds of them now there were but, seemingly, 50-60 equally dejected looking comrades left. As he contemplated the whole sorry mess, trying to close his ears to the pitiful cries coming from several of the wounded, he tried to work out how it had all gone so wrong, how surreal it had all seemed when right next to him poor Rufus had his head sliced clean off by a lunar scimitar and how he had managed to escape unscathed from the chaos of the fight.
Perhaps he was blessed of the Gods or, at least, a God? I mean, he knew he wasn't actually in a cult or anything BUT he was Broar Hofarson after all and so some God must want him to sign up soon! Anyway, the past is the past he mused, no point worrying about it, one has to be tough when one is a Warrior, no place for sentiment and woeful reflections, I'm a man and so lets look to the future! There were still some lunars in his purse, a spear a helmet and 'Peeler', the trusty fruitknife plus he was still alive, which was more that could be said for most of the poor sods.
Yes, if he could link up with another fresh Levy regiment, what with Commander Lamarr & his boys being sort of all dead, then he could still take part in a glorious charge and scatter the foe before him, grabbing fists full of lunars into the bargain!! Surely his second month campaigning would bring it's much sought after rewards......
Young Broar sat dejectedly amongst the remnants of the regiment, where before there had been hundreds of them now there were but, seemingly, 50-60 equally dejected looking comrades left. As he contemplated the whole sorry mess, trying to close his ears to the pitiful cries coming from several of the wounded, he tried to work out how it had all gone so wrong, how surreal it had all seemed when right next to him poor Rufus had his head sliced clean off by a lunar scimitar and how he had managed to escape unscathed from the chaos of the fight.
Perhaps he was blessed of the Gods or, at least, a God? I mean, he knew he wasn't actually in a cult or anything BUT he was Broar Hofarson after all and so some God must want him to sign up soon! Anyway, the past is the past he mused, no point worrying about it, one has to be tough when one is a Warrior, no place for sentiment and woeful reflections, I'm a man and so lets look to the future! There were still some lunars in his purse, a spear a helmet and 'Peeler', the trusty fruitknife plus he was still alive, which was more that could be said for most of the poor sods.
Yes, if he could link up with another fresh Levy regiment, what with Commander Lamarr & his boys being sort of all dead, then he could still take part in a glorious charge and scatter the foe before him, grabbing fists full of lunars into the bargain!! Surely his second month campaigning would bring it's much sought after rewards......