"Your orders, Commander,"
Kashan snaps out of his haze looking to his second in command. He opens his mouth for a second, only to close it again to think of the proper words to say. Ashes and flames litter what was once a pleasant meadow, replaced with corpses of his soldiers and the memory of their families awaiting their return. His fate is sealed but... There is still hope for others. Kashan spoke with as much strength his body could muster as he ripped his helmet off and set it down on the saddle of his warwolf.
"Knights of Stallaertzo." he said, voice echoing through the remnants of his forces. His voice drew the eyes of every soldier who'd stood by his side until now. The injured, the able, the weak, and the strong, were all silent and still as Kashan made his decree.
"There is little hope for us. We are outnumbered. Many wear their wounds fresh and deep. 'Tis our fate, but not that of those who stand behind us ." Kashan pounds his chest with his gauntlet and faces his steed toward the escape route. In the distance, a blue and gold banner adorned with a black falcon flies high, shrinking away as they flee from the battlefield. Beneath that banner is a gathering of assorted carts, some open and carrying women and children. Other carts are covered in tarps carrying children or crates that barely fit beneath their shelter. Kashan pulled the fur of his wolf, prompting it to stop as he reached the center of the road they occupied.
"The crown makes way for our main force. We need only hold the enemy. I will do just that, whatever the cost. My purpose will likely end here, but you... you have a choice." Kashan climbs down from his steed and grabs the hilt of the greatsword strapped to its saddle. In one smooth motion, he draws his blade and allows it to rest on his shoulder, leaving the sheath still attached to the saddle. His men do similar acts, drawing their blades and tossing their sheathes into the mud.
"Those of you who wish to stay with your families, lay down your arms. Be fathers and mothers. Be brothers and sisters. Begone." Kashan winces as he lets his breath escape. expecting the worst. He smiles as a tear begins to fall. He expected the clatterings of swords, shields, and spears. Silence. "As for the fools who wish the die at my side, know this. Until my last breath, my blade will slow its march only in the flesh of my enemies." Closer, closer, ever closer, a legion of knights appears on the horizon. Each step was taken in unison, shaking the earth in their advance. Kashan, with false confidence yet true conviction, turns to the opposing force. He holds his arms open, as if to embrace the sky and screams at the top of his lungs.
"Ye of great honor and greater heart! Show me the flame that tempers your mettle! Show them the might of the Knights of Stallaertzo!"
His battlecry ignites the fervor of his men, their charge akin to that of a crushing flood. For a moment, the opposing knights are startled as a wave of something between madness and hope sweeps across Kashan's forces. As their first act, the opposing force begins to sling spells, grand and encompassing. Kashan shouts over his shoulder, blade held like a spear before him as his charge continues.
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"MAGES!" Kashan sees no purpose in giving them specific orders. He'd placed his life in their hands again and again, knowing they'd never disappoint. His men respond to the enemy's spells with lances of light, puncturing and destabilizing the spells that once blotted the sky. Arrows begin to rain on both sides, some blocked by spells while others either puncture between the gaps or are deflected entirely by plate armor. The front lines collide and waves of steel and spells begin to fly.
The sun has begun to set, and Kashan’s forces have been devastated. There are a few madmen who quickly fall to the enemy, despite their vain hope. One, younger lad bearing his family crest on his tabard charges a man with a spear. Though impaled, his will alone pushes him further, impaling him further and further until he reaches the throat of the spearman who’d tripped and began crawling away in fear. A battlemage, old and shrewd had begun burning away her own life to continue her assault. When she felt what little youth in her bones begin to crack and fade, she switched to her shortsword rather than allowing herself a simple surrender.
Kashan himself was impaled by 6 pikes, held in place as a sort of trophy for the opposing commander.
“So, you’ve secured him then?” The commander whined, his armor and horse still polished and clean while his soldiers’ was damp with blood and mud.
“Yes, sir Daum.” A young man answered, eyes glued to his sabatons as his superior climbed down from his steed, a verdant lizard decorated with glistening stones in its barding.
Kashan could barely hold his consciousness, vision fading in and out as the spears held his mangled body upright. For a moment, he allowed hopelessness to hold… Until he saw the dagger sheathed at the enemy commander’s side. A violent vigor began to feed him, but he kept it contained as they approached. Closer… closer…
“Closer,” Kashan whispered, breathless as his strength waned, but his mind sharpened as he saw a singular opportunity. Commander Daum couldn’t hear his first words, approaching with a smug malice.
“So, sir… Kashan-something, I didn’t take the time to research your family name before the battle began, my apologies. Do you wish to surrender?”
Kashan fills his lungs best as he could, a half grimace half smile forming as a plan forms in his addled mind. “I have nothing to say… To a vile creature who’s family tree… Shares likeness with that of a ladder,” To add some effect, he spits a wad of bloodied phlegm on his pristine boots.
“You, insolent little pawn!” Commander Daum reaches for Kashan’s throat, pulling him up to stand at his full height at eye level. “I will not have my victory spoiled by a failure like-”
It was only a moment. Despite the spears, despite the dullness of his sense, Kashan focused on the dagger until it was within reach and stabbed below Commander Daum’s chin. An arrow loosed by a nearby archer embeds itself in Kashan’s left lung, but the pain only wakens him, giving him just enough lucidity to grip the end of the dagger tighter and stir. As the enemy commander fell, Kashan could only chuckle at their foolishness before his eyes began to shut.