V The Warcamp for Hillview

Hayle

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It has been five years after Duncan Hayle was knighted.

He is eighteen now, a man years over in the eyes of Candegron. Though the border skirmishes continue, there was never another concerted attack from the wildlands to the west. It would seem that all was quiet on the western front, for now. King Candegron continued to push their borders outward, aggressively establishing new settlements and fighting the weaker armies of the self proclaimed kings of the land. Hayle and Rosa were married at seventeen in Hillview, a small village that they moved to after he was knighted.

As a knight, he was sent to the village at the northern border of Candegron. It had noticed an increase in sentient beast attacks over the past several years. It was also important as a strategic location, as it existed quite close to the southern border of the Kingdom of Seris.

He had learned to read and write, a privilege not many had access to. His wife learned alongside him. The two of them had found themselves growing together. She had become the apprentice to the local smith, and he had become a champion to the locals. They together made names for themselves in their own rights.

Through their deeds, they were respected. Hayle had repeatedly repelled the vicious attacks by the creatures who attacked seemingly for food. He and the men who followed him were hailed by few as heroes, yet were recognized as a force for good. On their few incursions to the local pub after a hard fought battle, they chanted the names of those dead in song and left feeling stronger in their bond to each other.

Rosa, on the other hand, was nearly a full smithy. She had been keeping her husband’s armour and sword repaired on her own for at least a year now. She was not a waif of a lass, but a sturdy oaken woman now. Recently she had been experimenting with rare metals she managed to pry from the grubbly fingers of travelling merchants. Yet the metal she found most interesting was copper. Hayle tried asking her about the fascination but she just told him she didn’t know herself, that there was something about it she couldn’t explain.

Today, the scouts had reported an approach of soldiers from the Kingdom of Seris. The men were rapidly roused from their bunks as Hayle donned his armour and mounted up. The warcamp was awake and moving barely ten minutes after the message had arrived. He checked to make sure he had his longsword, and found it sheathed at his side, where it should be. Rosa patted him on the leg before giving him a beaming smile.

“You come back safe ye big lump!”

“You know I will!” He said, grinning back down at her before riding out of the stables to his assembled men. “Let’s go! I don’t want to be late to this!” he yelled over the din of grouped up soldiers before stuffing his head into his helmet.

Within minutes he was outside the warcamp, leading his division of soldiers to the field of battle.

“Everyone get in position! They come from the North!” he bellowed.

The thunder of hooves became audible in the distance, beyond the horizon. That was abnormal, usually they did not bring such a number of horses on attacks. Perhaps they had pulled resources from another border, but that would leave them open to one of the other kingdoms. Hayle paused to think for a moment before raising one hand above his head.

“Archers! Nock!” he shouted.
 

Hayle

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The army that came over the horizon was too large. The Serisians could not possibly have the strength alone to mount this attack. Something was wrong.

“Shieldbearers move forward and hold fast!” he shouted “Archers, I’ll need you firing as soon as they’re within range! Men at arms get in formations on the left and right!”

He continued giving orders as the enemy force continued closing in. “Archers! Draw! Loose! And continue launching arrows until you have nothing left, then draw your swords and join the fight!”

Many of the charging horses died mid stride, their riders being thrown and breaking on the earth. He waited until they were nearly there.

“Hold your ground! Don’t let a single bastard past the shields!”

Of course, many bastards would get past the shields. The sound of the impact from horses slamming into the line and being impaled on spears was as the sound of several boulders slamming into a keep wall.

Attackers bullied their way through the lines and before he knew it, he was in the thick of battle. He began to lay about with his sword, cutting down anyone that got too close. They were being pushed back and losing too many men. The only thing saving them was the archers continuing pepper their back lines while the men up front fought to the edge of death.

It looked as though they might actually be able to survive this, they just needed to hold out while the enemy bulwark withered from the arrow barrage. He would just need to manage his men carefully. Suddenly there was a loud boom, and all of his men at the front line started getting slaughtered.

“Wizard!” he heard shouted.

The front line crumbled inward and the enemy surged forward. Through the chaos he managed to spot a glimpse of a man standing calm in the opposing army. He charged toward the war wizard. Halfway there his horse was cut out from under him. He barely rolled away from the dying creature and fought his way through two of the guards in front of the magic user. He was about to finish some kind of incantation but never got to finish as Hayle’s longsword pierced through his throat and was ripped out sideways. Blood sprayed out as he finished the stroke and then continued to pour from his neck.

There was a sharp snapping sound and the magical energy he had been building up was released. Hayle, and everyone else around the mage were thrown back several meters, landing hard in the ground. He got back to his feet, ready to continue the fight, but the magical detonation seemed to have finished off whatever morale the troops had left. Their mage dead, the probably knew that they should try and live to fight another day. Their numbers thinned as more and more of them faltered and ran. Those who didn’t ran were overrun by enraged shortsword wielding bowmen.
 
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