Aurestes Favonius, was a Rumelian of the old faith, in his mind, he was a pragmatically ambitious man. He was a proud son of the patrician house Favonius; raised on the stories of the old gods and the illustrious histories and traditions of the great city of Rumelia. Like many other sons of the patrician houses of the Empire, he was to follow the cursus honorum, join the armies of the Rumelian Empire, and step by step climb the ranks and achieve a prestigious political position. His time in the military had a major impact on his personal development, it was also the major catalyst in changing his destiny and outlook.

When he joined the ranks of the army, he didn’t see the men of valor or the great heroes of old that he was led to believe commanded the armies of the Empire: What he saw was weak effeminate “men of faith” commanding the armies of the empire. They didn’t hold true to the traditions of the great city, to conquer and subjugate the barbarian nations who threatened the Empire’s dominion, they didn’t seek glory and riches through struggle. No, they asked pointless questions like: “Is it moral to wage war? Is it right to conquer for the sake of profit? Do we need to subjugate the client states, can we not find peaceful solutions?”

He never understood why the new God was so popular. The ancient gods have long proven their existence, sacrifices in their name were filled with miraculous power. Many of the old patrician lines can count heroes and Demi-gods among their paternal origins. They gave great boons to their followers and laid terrible curses against their enemies. Contrastingly the only thing the new God gave was his death, and the blessings given by his followers paled in comparison to the legendary artifacts and magics of the ancestors. So why were his followers so influential? It was a pointless question that he would never have an answer to and he simply didn't care to figure it out.

The leadership of the legions was either over-moralizing religious philosophers, or they were bumbling incompetents looking for a paycheck and a cushy job, it was a disappointing realization of the situation. Aurestes decided that if he could not find glory in the armies of the Empire, he would leave the realm and find a place where he could find like-minded people. This led him to serve under the Great Chief Aquila, in this man he found a true warrior god. Aquila was the embodiment of everything the stories of old would ascribe of the ancient heroes. He was powerful, cunning, ambitious, fearless, and he radiated an awe-inspiring gravitas; the Great Chief sought glory and wealth, and he took them by the sword.

Aurestes deeply admired the man, and he sought to model himself on that greatness. He aided the Great Chief in subjugating the surrounding tribes, trained his men on Rumelian tactics, and when the occasion demanded it he acted as Aquila’s envoy to the Empire. He gained wealth, power, prestige, honor, pride, and eventually a son while serving the Great Chief. When he eventually led the armies and raiding parties against the Empire; he would justify it by situational pragmatism: “If it wasn’t me attacking them, it would have been someone else. If they didn’t want to fight, they should have given more tribute. If they didn’t abandon the Ancestral Gods, they would not be forsaken.” He was satisfied by this rationale, and he never lost sleep when pillaging the homelands of his countrymen.

The “good times” would end with Aquila’s death, but the fame and reputation he built as an envoy and general would net him the position of Magister Millitum under Nepitus. Many said Aurestes was blessed, he thought differently, it was nothing short of making him the garbage man. He was assigned to clean up and shape the armies that the Caesar was too incompetent to manage. Aurestes figured if he was going to do such a massive undertaking he might as well just be in charge, and so he usurped the position with the aid of Odokar. His desire to worship heroes was great, so he decided he would make his own hero, and his son would become the clay by which he worked. Aurestes made his son Remus Augustus the new Caesar, and worked hard to raise and shape him into an idol of worship.

That was a year ago, his plans were great, but the world conspired against him. His alliance with Odokar was in shambles and many of the tribes were now openly fighting against him. Aurestes sat in a pavilion at the center of his armies camp, he and the leaders of his army were creating a plan for the eventual battle that would decide the fate of his son's regime. The plan was to have the two armies met in the plains of Corvinna Pianuria, north of the city of Corvinna. The future battlefield was littered with soft hill inclines and a river that cut into the land, from its northern most point. Aurestes had his back to the river while Odokars ingress was the forests south of the plains. A scout soon entered the commanders pavilion and gave a report to Aurestes: "Sir Odokar's troops roughly number 18,000 strong, the majority of the enemy is composed of tribal warriors with a small minority of Rumelian regulars. I counted 13,000 tribals, 2000 horse and 3000 Rumelian infantry; of the tribals it appears that only 2000 of them are armed as shielded foot infantry, with the rest acting as archers or slingers."

Aurestes considered the report, "The enemy can be divided into 5000 melee units, and 11,000 ranged units, with 2000 horse supporting them. The enemy strategy seems to be centered on keeping us at bay and peppering us to death, no doubt that this is their attempt to counter our superior cavalry and mounted archers. My forces comprise of 5000 regular infantry, 200 equites, 3000 tribal auxiliaries and 5000 Hussack horse mercenaries. The enemy outnumbers us but we have superior mobility, it will be a hard fight but it's a battle that we can win. Hmmm the equities are few in number so I will keep them as my honor guard." The Magister Militum debated on the arrangement of his troops with the legates and centurions of his camp and called for a general assembly; to prep his army for the battle which would decide the fate of Odokar and Aurestes battle for supremacy.

The assembled forces of the Magister Militum stood in their ranks around a large platform, and Aurestes made his speech before his men: “Men of Rumelia! We face the traitorous scum of Odokar, this oath breaking swine has surrendered his honor and now turns his blade against his noble partners. He swore before his God and our Gods, to be tied together in the sacred bonds of brotherhood, to share in good fortune and bad. With his forked tongue, did he make fine promises to us and then proceeded to stab us in the back! He did it for his insatiable greed and ambition, he is no longer content with his share of the bounty. Now the false king wants your share of our glories, he demands your homes, your wives, your children, your wealth, and now your lives! The Gods are with us, and they have seen the foulness of his moth eaten heart. The Gods shall delver us victory, for our fight is a moral imperative, and to slay them is our divinely ordained duty. I will lead you in this sacred march towards destiny; together, we shall kill the oath-breaker and root out his fellow conspirators, and wash his evil away with the spilled blood of these evil traitors! For Rumelia!"

The army shouted back "For Rumelia!"; the Magister Militum's army broke camp and set forth to meet the enemy on the field. They arranged their forces with the auxiliary units on the back and flanks, armed with sling throwers and bows they would hem in the enemy army. The mounted units were arrayed across the center with the infantry along their back, the mounted archers would aim to break the enemy formations in order to aid the following infantry in their initial charge. When Aurestes preparations were complete the shamans and priests made their final blessings and prayers for the troops. The air was filled with the sound of sacred hymns and chants to the ancient gods, the holy words created a sacred glow on the frontline troops and filled them with a wrathful fury and bloodlust. The shamans of the Hussacks blessed the arrows of the troops to strike and aim true, and their swords were empowered with strengthened blessings.

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Aurestes saw the enemy army on a gentle hill across the plains, they arrayed their infantry in a line with the archers standing behind them, and their horses stood at the flanks. In boisterous challenge the forces of Odokar blew their horns and the men roared, not to be out done, Aurestes men pounded their shields and loudly cursed at the enemy. The Magister Militum waved his arm forward and ordered the movement of his army. The horse archers charged with a gusto and upon reaching the center of the field; aimed and fired their bows into the air, their blessed arrows fell like a rain of death, their enchanted missiles accurately penetrated the gaps in the enemy shield walls. Then like a ravenous school of pirañas they charged up and down the line, dropping arrows like cheap thills on spring evening. The enemy formation was suffering a continuous stream of casualties, and the archers responded by firing wave after wave of arrows at the horsemen, their shots having minimal impact on the quickly moving horses.

Emboldened by their quick success the horse-archers moved ever closer to the enemy line, jeering and taunting the stationary solders, while they launched arrow after hateful arrow into their ranks. The front ranks of the enemy forces patiently endured a half hour of this harassment, before the battlefield was changed by the appearance of a hail of flaming pots from Odokar's men. The mounted archers oblivious to the change in projectiles aimed at them, boldly charged through the missiles, intending to quickly dart away from the ranged attack. They were met with a fiery surprise as the air ignited around them, and the earth shook with a deafening roar, as the pots made impact with the grounds around them. The horses panicked, and started to charge aimlessly in all directions, which caused the ranks of the mounted cavalry to dissolve in a sea of cries, neighs, and flames. The enemy archers took advantage of the panic and successfully counter-attacked Aurestes forces with deadly consequence. The leaders of the mounted troops quickly retreated and hastily attempted to reform their ranks before they could suffer another attack.

Aurestes grimaced at the sight and ordered the infantry to prepare for contact with the enemy. The flames on the battlefield died out after minutes of burning, the ground was warm with the burned remains of horses, men, and ruined armaments. The two opposing ranks of Rumelian infantry hammered each other with volleys of javelins, before the consequently charged into each other. In moments the armies began to clash in full force, the infantry on both sides pushed and stabbed viciously at each other, desperate to break the opposing formation. Like two angry rams they battered at each other for hours, neither side willing to give ground or surrender space. Aurestes scanned the field looking for the enemy general, he spotted an ostentatiously decorated horned helm above the sea of raging soldiers. He recognized the man as Arnulf, brother of Odokar, and his former friend and confidant. It was a shame they had to meet like this, but Aurestes was willing to sacrifice his old friend for his greater good.

He looked to the flanks and watched as the enemy horse charged into his men, his ragged horse archers made a desperate defense to prevent the collapse of the wings. The sounds of dying horses and men made a strange song like rhythm on the raging plains. Aurestes then examined the ranks of the infantry and the auxiliaries and saw the tired determination on their faces. He called for one of the shamans and bade him chant and hymn to embolden his tiring forces. The shaman soon responded with a long prayer to Tengiri the Sky Horse, and begged his favor. The ancient god made his appearance in the darkening clouds of the battlefield, a foreboding specter which could not be directly seen by men, and his stern countenance filling the winds with a dread purpose. Thunder and lighting filled the distantly forming cumulous shapes, and the Magister Militum's forces reconstituted their onslaught with intense fervor.

The army was filled with cries and cheers from his men; "The Gods stand with us!", " Rumelia!", and "Death to the traitors!". The morale of Aurestes army was high; the fighting was bitter but they were whittling away at the enemy and victory was slowly falling into their grasp. The winds of Tengiri blew at the Magister Militum's back and a smile was plastered across his face. His infantry was gradually overpowering the standing ranks of the enemy regulars. They pushed, they screamed, and they bloodily stabbed at each other. The wounded men on both sides were dragged from the ranks and the gaps filled with exhausted replacements. Aurestes knew that many homes would be bereft of their menfolk this day, but it was a price he was willing to pay to crush the Longboard King.

The field of battle was awash in the tumultuous sounds of roaring chaos, but another sound soon crept upon the combatants. It began with a low hum and soon filled the battle ground with its deep vibrato. It was a priests prayer coming from the enemy forces, his slow rhythmic chants danced on the wind, and drowned out the voices of the fighters. The power of the old gods was light and fire, but the power from this prayer of the new God was strange in the absence of phenomena. The ceaseless zephyr conjured by Tengiri met its muted finality in the presence of the harmonious prayer. The fire in his men's eyes diminished, their will to fight died, and the blessings on the weapons and men ceased to exist.

Aurestes quickly concluded that the enemy priest was calling on the aid of the silent God. He rallied his forces for another hard push, and commanded his generals to whip the men into a fervor. Then he organized his 200 equites into a desperate charge across the field and around the enemy forces, with the goal of decapitating the enemy priest. The Magister Militum made a desperate gambit, he realized if the priest was to continue his chants unimpeded it would prevent his forces from receiving the necessary blessings to secure their victory. The battle was too close to the end, and if the tides were allowed to shift into the favor of the Goss, he would lose this confrontation.

He made a silent prayer to the war god and allowed his grace to descend upon his troubled soul. His mounted archers on the left wing made a rapid attack to open the way for the Magister Militum. Aurestes bumped his horse into a canter and led his forces into a sharp angle through the enemy flank and galloped hard to his objective. The enemy forces created a narrow partition before his desperate charge, their spears puncturing the unlucky horses of some of his men. He used his hasta with liberal abandon stabbing everything he could reach in opportunistic fashion. In long stretched minutes he would reach a platform at the center rear of the enemy forces, where a small altar was constructed and kneeling priest remained in prayer. The altar was surrounded by a small honor guard of dwarvish warriors, the dwarves quickly assembled themselves into a line formation to meet the mounted attackers.

Aurestes was racing against time, he could feel the War God's blessing weaken in proximity to the altar, and enemy spearmen were hastily rushing to close the gap behind him. He cried aloud to his men "Kill the foreign priest and I will reward you in your weight in gold! The remaining 100 equites behind him were spurred into action and they slammed into the enemy dwarves formation. He kicked his horse into a gallop and with powerful leap, they jumped over the dwarves and onto the altar. There he faced two dwarves while on horseback, he threw his hasta into one of them spearing the unfortunate guard into the floor. He drew his spatha and after he exchanged a five strike bout with the last guard, he slashed the final guard across the neck ending his resistance. The priest prayed without regard to the ongoing battle and Aurestes drew near him his sword. With a triumphal series of strikes to the priests neck, he succeeded in decapitating the man at the altar.

He cheered, and his men whooped in victory, and they hastily prepared their egress from the enemy encampment. Victory was firmly in his grasp as he redirected his horse away from the headless corpse; then he heard it, or rather the sound did not cease to be. Aurestes could still hear chanting. With shaking eyes, he turned in the direction of the headless priest. There kneeling before the altar, was the same priest holding his head in his hands, offering his skull in supplication before the altarpiece representing the Silent God. The mouth of the clerk was still offering orisons, and the voice left a foreboding feeling of terror in Aurestes. The sight itself filled him with dread, and he was mesmerized by the strange visage of the bloodied body offering its head, the eyes of the dead man gazed into the Magister Militum.

He was shocked and overwhelmed by the situation, and he no longer payed attention to his men as they were cut down. He didn't even notice when the axe finally came down on his own head.