Tales From Caminus and Yishu

Life in Leo

Lightning, steel, and blood: All dancing across this grand field of bladed grass and cloying mud. Steel clad knights fell beneath rains of enchanted arrow fire while cravens and traitors hid beneath the corpses of brave unfortunates. Such was the site of the plane known as Cicero's Folly. At least that's how it was in the eyes of Sergeant Bertram Harper, of Her Majesty's 15th mobile legion.

"Stand firm and behind the pikes!"

A great wave of armored horsemen had smashed the forward infantry line, and was crashing towards Bertram's company like the tides of a Fuji typhoon. Their lieutenant was panicking in the back of the line, and now the company was shaking in like fear. But Bertram knocked an arrow into his great bow and aimed true.

"They're coming right at us lads. It's a straight shot, just like we've practiced."

He let loose his arrow, and the mighty bolt flew forward and pierced through the armor of a blue plumed lancer. The unfortunate dame fell from her mount and was trampled by her own fellows. Seeing the invincibility of the oncoming charge proven false, the rest of the bow company knocked their arrows and fired at their sergeant's command.

"Fire!"

A great volley of spell steel arrows cut through the armored lancers. Slowed by the mud, and tripping over the corpses of their own comrades and mounts, the remaining lancers turned tail and ran before the second volley even commenced. A great cheer rose up from the bowman, celebrating their stunning victory. Bertram joined in at first, but heard an almost shrieking sound cutting through the air...and getting closer. Finally, he turned his eyes to the sky, and saw a great ball of red hot flame crashing towards his fellows. He didn't even bother to pack his bow.

"Scatter!"

And so they did. The bowmen of the 15th scattered beneath the incoming blast of fire, and minimized their casualties. But seven souls still passed on, their bodies ignited by the spell of a mage. A mage now charging forward with a column of shield wielding infantry. They marched casually over the corpses of the fallen lancers, and fell upon the bowmen before they could recover. Bertram saw no choice but to draw his broadsword.

"Fight for your lives! It's the only way you'll be keeping em."

Not the most inspirational words perhaps, but they were motivation enough for the bowman to stand and fight. And the fight they did, but it was not enough. They were scattered and worn, while the enemy was in formation and supported by bolts of flame cast by their mage. Bertram, against his strongest impulses, was about to sound a retreat. But he was smacked to the ground by an enemy shield. As Bertram looked up at an armored shrimp of a man, who was far too young to be smiling at the kill he was about to make, the sergeant thought on the his own young boy he'd be leaving behind. And on the wife that he wished he'd seen more of before this moment: the moment of his death.

Then, a great whiny sounded out across the battlefield. Bertram's would be killer turned to its source, and his head was sliced clean in half by a misty blade, while his body was kicked into the dirt by a black armored hoof. Bertram couldn't believe his luck.

"By all the demons of the Beyond, what happened?"

Bertram tried getting up but was actually helped up by two of his comrades, one younger man and one veteran woman. Bertram turned towards the veteran.

"Who was it that saved our necks?"

"That one over there."

The veteran pointed a finger toward where the enemy line had been, and Bertram blinked dust out of his eyes as he walked forward and marveled at the sight before him.