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Mede
Roadblock
Part IV
-Twenty minutes-
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1st Cohort
-Gold Standard, a square red banner, on spear-shaped staff with an oak tree in gold depicted on it, for its first commander Galio Veturius.
Monikers -Red, ‘Old’, Gold Oak
Strength 850
1st ‘Agricola’ Century Centurion, Primus Pilus| Simon Gata ‘Gato’ (Gold Phalera recipient)-400 legionnaires (in four 100-strong Maniples)
Gold Standard bearer | Acilius Maro
1st Decanus| Herius Asian (first ‘Kato’ Maniple)
2nd Decanus| Mede (second Maniple) Nord. Famous legionnaire risen through the ranks. A gold Phalera recipient twice. Cited for misconducts multiple times. Mentioned in the Legion’s Report multiple times.
Baldock
Venius ‘Caligula’ Gata (the Primus Pilus first cousin)
Surus
Tertian
Felix
Donlon
3rd Decanus | Gurus (Third Maniple.)
4th Decanus | Marcus Agrippa (Fourth Maniple)
2nd Century Centurion| Brevis. A decorated, risen through the ranks officer. Gold Armillae (arm-band) recipient for saving a unit from destruction. Mentioned in the dailies. -150 legionnaires (in three 50-strong Maniples)
3rd Century Centurion| Artur Mangas (Nord. A decorated officer)
4rth Century Centurion| Servius Capito (A decorated officer)
[https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiOkEmuEbl6ik2NNwp0ljHqXn0BEKHXE-okZwnFyBDyMugFOzKwkEeRf7Y77pNG9uOlB9aMrcK-3VzuNGWH3jWqEIKs2iiIfnMAUHTkoTffftDGfOAF8YCYM1EbCb9YBNyEl8nm83hm7vjxr8VLwCNhMrYEHuyJvZr3RrZmHzEv_h3QcAW6bQDQlpCCb8g/s2000/III%20LEGIO%20v7.jpg]Primus Pilus Simon Gata, III Legio army center, Oldfort siege, summer of 193 NC -a painting by Ireneo Sarkozy
artwork by @intheblackveil
Siege of Oldfort
Army’s center
First Cohort gathering area
Early morning
Richforest wildfire second day
“Is that tall fuck Brim Solomon wit Maro?” Baldock asked while Mede was busy fixing his harness, his eyes swollen from the thick smoke that had covered the battlefield. It mixed with the morning mist of the valley, turned heavy and stuck on your skin and armour like a dark sludge.
“Is the Panthera Tigris there?”
“I think.”
“You can’t tell?”
“It’s plaguing hells baths here Decanus!”
“Are ye nervous?” Mede asked him raising his head.
“Yer not?” Baldock snapped. “I had this dream—”
Mede stopped him raising a hand.
“Don’t wanna hear it.”
“I saw—”
“Not a word,” Mede stopped him again. “Kato was like that those last days.”
Did him no good.
“Is why I wanted to talk—?”
“That’s all I’m going to say on the matter,” Mede cut him off midsentence again. “Ah, here’s our Primus Pilus coming this way. All warmth and tender feelings.”
“Hah-ha,” Surus guffawed and then glared at the younger of their group Venius. They called him Caligula, since his feet were too small when he’d joined at sixteen back in Maza Burg. So they had to make special boots for him. Gata’s cousin, he was a silent soldier for the most part with few friends. Everyone kept their distance around him given his relation to the Primus Pilus. Tertian slapped Surus shoulder to cut his bullshit and leave the younger legionnaire alone. Although he was just out of his twentieth year Venius was a veteran of course.
“That’s battle number seven right?” Tertian asked.
“Surus keeps the score,” Mede dodged trying to focus on his imminent conversation with Centurion Gata.
“Eight,” Surus replied. “That is if you count only the big engagements. Now if you take each scrap on its own then we’re close to twenty.”
“Do they give a bonus or something after a certain number Decanus?” Tertian asked and Mede glared at him to shut his mouth. He had his eyes on the arriving Primus Pilus.
“Mede, you march after Herius Asian,” Gata started without a prologue, helm tightly secured on his head and the leather cords cutting into his weathered cheeks. “Gurus and Marcus Agrippa right after you. You keep the distance, even the space out for each row and keep it tight. We’ll be moving on a prearranged path. Any idiot stepping out of formation to trek on his own in search for titties,” he paused to glare at Baldock’s group who were high in his list of idiots. “Is bound to break an ankle or a leg. If it’s an ankle, I expect you to keep on marching on it, finish the fight and then I’ll punish you myself. If it’s a leg, you’ll stay in the ditch and I’ll break the other leg when I’m finished. Any queries?” He finished reasonably.
Mede had a lot of them, but knew he wasn’t about to get any answered.
“No queries Primus Pilus,” he replied steadily, as it was also a known trick question from the officers.
Baldock cleared his throat behind him.
“Legionnaire…” Gata started narrowing his eyes to better focus on Baldock.
“Baldock sir.”
“I don’t give a shit,” Gata rebuked him. “You be lookin’ to grow that beard more?”
“Eh, I…”
“Get that issued dagger out,” Gata grunted. “Shave that red crap off yer face afore the march starts. We’ll be receiving burning pots filled wit oil soon and they’ll light it up just like that,” he’d snapped his fingers sharply to give him the time it’ll take. “Burn yer face off. I see ye wit that bullshit in the line, my boot is going up yer arsehole up to the bindings. Any queries?” He asked again.
“None sir!” Baldock cried out.
“Mede, I want us under them walls in less than twenty minutes,” Gata said in parting.
“Is the smoke shielding us all the way sir?” Mede asked and he paused to glare his way.
“Smoke isn’t shielding shite. The moment the wind blows one way or the other and they spot us coming through the haze, they’ll just start shooting in it until they run out of ammo, or we stop them. And just to get it out of the blasted way. They won’t run out of ammo Decanus, so ye better move yer feet.”
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“First Cohort marching!” Gata barked and one after the other all Maniples started moving into the thick soup created by the burning for hours now wildfire. They were headed towards the little flags the engineers were waving to direct them through the Lesia works and Crane’s Fields.
The ground torn and cut, the ditches filled with sharp rocks, caltrops and sharp burned-shaft spears, the trenches not always immediately noticeable and every meter of the distance in front of them especially the last three hundred before the walls pre-measured and marked from the defenders. Many of those range-finding markers had been removed, but it was difficult to know what they had used in advance despite the efforts of the crews.
Merenda’s Second Cohort was to climb the small incline to the base of the stone walls of Oldfort and Gata’s First Cohort was to strike straight at the palisade and its double Scorpio armed tower. The outer rows of the maniples carrying four-five meters long ladders to use in the last part of the assault. The biggest problem coming from the bigger machines up on the stone walls and the rooftop of the citadel that could fire bolts, rocks, lead shrapnel, sacks with caltrops and flaming pots with oil on the approaching soldiers.
The latter dangerous even when they typically missed to hit a target as they created a local inferno you couldn’t most times bypass.
“Second Maniple!” Mede boomed, left side of his face crooked from the tension and the buzz of the blowing winds and smoke clouds restricting his vision adding to his nervousness. “Fast march! Keep tempo! SHIELDS FRONT!”
The sound of men’s boots thudding, shields and swords clanging on armour coming from in front of him, the men of the 1st ‘Kato’ Maniple under Herius Asian slowly disappearing into the white smoke.
Baldock who was the first man to his right, Mede was standing outside the formation, started marching with measured strides, Surus and Tertian coming after him with Venius Gata following and Felix with the other Nord Donlon bringing up the rear rows. Mede started after them sprinting to reach the first row and then slowed down again. He glanced backwards to spot Acilius Maro bringing up the standard with Centurion Gata near him and further to their rear Brim Solomon’s group with Panthera Tigris marching after the First Cohort as well to showcase that the Legion was on the move.
Surus brought a figurine to his mouth and kissed it murmuring a quick prayer, several men doing the same and Mede touched his Liger Hominis Panthera Divinus as well, the half-man half-blacktiger figurine he carried under his tunic.
Get us through good Praetor, he prayed. It’s a nasty place to die.
The first of the young engineers they met, long stick with a white cloth attached at its end, urging them on shaking his fist.
“Four hundred meters!” He warned them. “Luthos be with you lads!”
“Think they’ll miss us approaching?” Tertian asked from somewhere to his right, the bridging planks loose under his boots and the terrain treacherous.
“Not how I saw it,” Baldock grunted still thinking on the dream.
“Can’t see shit,” Surus commented.
“Three hundred meters!” The next engineer warned them. “Angle right five strides!”
“ANGLE RIGHT!” Mede barked. “Don’t break formation! Half-step second row!”
“HALF STEP SECOND!” Surus roared.
“KEEP SPACES EVEN!”
“SPACES EVEN!”
The wind blew from the west, the smoke clouds billowing and his throat hoarse, mouth tasting bitter. Mede realized he could now see a lot of gleaming bronze-colored helms in front of him. To the near distance over his left shoulder the dark stone walls of Oldfort came to view, banners flying over them and bristling with men. To his right, the tar black wooden palisade popped into view behind the smokes for a moment. The noise changing in the battlefield, bells ringing, loud yells of alarm coming from the fort.
They had spotted them.
“TWO FIFTY!” the next engineer yelled a warning. “IN RANGE!”
“SHIELDS!” Mede barked. “STEADY STRIDES! KEEP FORWARD!”
“STEADY FORWARD! RAISE SHIELDS!”
“INCOMING!” Baldock roared.
This tale has been unlawfully lifted from Royal Road; report any instances of this story if found elsewhere.
Wood splinter in the gonads, Mede cursed using one of Kato’s favorite expressions, clenching his jaw tight hearing the machines firing one after the other. The sound sharp and cynical.
TWANG!
WHOOSH!
“MOVE!” Mede barked recoiling instinctively seeing a round fifty-kilo boulder bouncing off of the ground three meters in front of him, breaking in two large pieces and whistling next to both his left and right ear barely missing him. A bolt sunk next to his boot next, more than a meter of iron shaft still protruding from the ground and he saw the men of the 1st Maniple shaking in front of him afore he realized everything was dancing under the heavy bombardment.
The ground, the marching men and even the walls of Oldfort to their east side where Merenda was heading, as Durio’s engineers had sneaked their own machines nearer in the confusion and started pelting the defenders with everything they had.
The worst being the flaming pots hurled back and forth from both camps.
One such shot exploded ten meters away to their right, the flames shooting up half that number and leaping forward towards them twice that distance.
“SHITE!” Surus yelled, Scutum and helm set alight. He hurled the shield away, the helm next and dived on the ground to extinguish the flames. Mede grabbed him by the arm and shoved him forward walking over the burning ground. His eyes smarted, the breeze sending material mixed with smoke on them. Men groaning and cursing, officers barking to get through the chaos created from rocks and arrows striking shields or the ground. The ricochets as dangerous as they could injure a soldier’s legs or groin.
“KEEP THE SPACES!” Baldock yelled to his group that got doused with another shot of burning oil and shuddered. “ONE! TWO! MOVE!”
Mede opened his stride, jumped over a half-filled ditch, landed on a gutted legionnaire and stumbled forward with a curse. Blood on the ground. Painting the rocks and soil. Entrails and urine mixed in. Arms still holding swords, a leg here, half of it over there. Helms and shattered shields peppering the field and the smoke clearing for a moment and thickening again the next.
The clamor of battle engulfing a huge part of the battlefield. It made it impossible to distinguish the origins of each cry, or order. A shot from a catapult pulverized a legionnaire from the 1st Maniple, the lines coming closer as the first rows slowed down under the hail of enemy fire.
Pieces of armour and flesh splattering on the rocks, part of his helm striking Baldock’s shield and forcing him back. Mede grunted, his throat hoarse making breathing painful and rushed to order Herius unit to open the pace. They couldn’t stop in the middle of the field. Their opponents would decimate them.
“Decanus!” He yelled ducking under a plunging bolt and seeing the walls of the palisade now closer through the smokes. Herius turned to see who it was and another bolt ripped through him. In through the left side and out of his stomach. The officer’s body hollowed out immediately and he collapsed on the ground face first.
Shite.
“MOVE FORWARD!” Mede barked hoarsely running towards the 1st Maniple, kicking and slapping at the backs of the men. “MARCH YE CUNTS!” He roared getting his sword out and the rows started moving again. Mede glanced back and yelled at the approaching 2nd Maniple to keep the pace, everything turning into a confusing blur.
Rocks hitting the ground, bolts whistling and flames leaping out of fresh pools of oil. Men groaning, some injured trying to move leaving body parts behind, their own artillery finding the range and taking out part of the palisade as if in a dream.
Everything was burning, breaking or dying around him.
The sound a cacophony, a constant indecipherable buzz and his mind trying to piece together what was happening. The next moment a gap opening at the approaching 2nd Maniple splitting the unit in two. Mede paused to order the ranks dressed again, but a severed arm smacked him on the shoulder and twisted the stunned Decanus around, only to get hit by a rock, or a lead sphere at the top of his helm a moment later.
His brains scrabbling and ears popping.
A dazed Mede dropped on a knee covered in gore and the 1st Maniple quivered wildly as it was getting pummeled both from the Citadel’s Scorpios about eighty meters to their east and the wooden tower’s machines less than twenty meters away.
Fuck, he cursed and tried to get up, slipping in the gory sludge and almost going down again.
“GET ‘EM GOING!” Someone barked and slapped him hard on the helm, which didn’t help the rattled Decanus. “DO IT!”
“Eh,” Mede gasped trying to find his bearings.
Gata stooped into his face deathly serious. “Mede ye have thirty seconds. Fix the second, I’ll handle the first! We’re almost there lad,” the Centurion added seeing him hurt.
“Aye sir,” Mede replied instinctively and stumbled back towards the stalled unit. “Baldock,” He said to the man standing at the edge of the row and the legionnaire glared at him under the rim of his helm.
“Baldock’s line is gone,” he told him. “It’s Felix Decanus.”
Turd in soup.
“Felix,” Mede croaked, realizing he couldn’t see from the right eye. The Decanus grimaced blocking everything out and used all the air he’d left to bark in the legionnaire’s face. “GET THE MEN MOVING OR WE’RE ALL JOIN HIM!”
> The First Cohort that had marched against the palisade got focused on by Oldfort’s defenders as the angle was better and Merenda had moved diagonally up the gentle slope into the smoke again. Decanus Herius Asian got killed and his Maniple stalled in the open. The Tower’s defenders operating the machines knowing there was a scrap to their west and near Richforest, did all they could to stop the First’s advance.
>
> In the chaos and with casualties mounting, Centurion Gata took control of the 1st Maniple to urge them forward and Tribune Veturius had to ride to the rear of the First Cohort to galvanize the troops. The Cohort had instinctively used slow-moving defending squares or testudo formations to protect itself, which worked for the arrows but not for the bolts or rocks hurled at them. When this didn’t work, Gata walked out in front of the formation, stood in the middle of the field –a mere ten-fifteen meters from the wooden palisade where everyone could see him- and gestured with his raised sword the First forward in an iconic scene.
>
> The latter captured in oil in a painting by Ireneo Sarkozy the ex-mercenary that was watching from the east battlefield plateau with the rest of the general staff and LID personnel along this writer.
>
> Gata’s brave gamble worked and he managed to get the men going, but the Primus Pilus got hit either by a double bolt, or a catapult shot and was killed, his body never to be recovered. Centurion Brevis who arrived moments later with the 2nd Century took control of the situation from Decanus Mede who had been left alone in the absence of another officer.
>
> Three minutes later the First Cohort reached the wooden palisade and the twenty minutes were over.
Mede rushed up the ladder a spear striking his shoulder guard and almost dropping him. He hacked wildly opening a nasty gush on the Lesia defender’s unprotected neck running vertically under his chin. Mede shoved the gurgling soldier back and over the walkway. Donlon arrived a moment later climbing up the other ladder, with Tertian screaming as he tumbled on the shields of the men bellow them from his, cracked head covered in blood.
Mede kicked a leg out and snapped a shin turning the bone inwards, put a shoulder on a face next the nose caving in and hacked at a mail wearing officer opening him up like a fish, from chest to groin. He slipped on the fresh gore, entrails pouring down the walkway’s lip and stabbed another defender in the ribs from the sides as more and more legionnaires came up the ladders. The trip short but lethal.
Arrows hit the inside of the merlons fired from below and he rushed to the stairs followed by Donlon and a helmless Surus. Mede jumped the two meters skipping the steps and crashed on the two archers, Surus taking an arrow in the chest behind him. They tumbled together on the ground, his body hurting, ears ringing and disoriented. He bit, hacked and slashed, then head-butted in the blind all the time growling like a madman. Blood splattered him, another fresh coating over the old, his hands covered in gore to the elbows and the armour turned a dull red-brown color.
Somehow he made it out of the scrap still in one piece.
A rugged breath later Mede realized he was over the wall, as he spotted Oldfort’s west side gates thirty meters away over his left shoulder. He turned his head back, watched legionnaires climbing or jumping over the short parapets and barked to the nearest of them.
“Pilums!” His voice cracking and ineligible, a Lesia soldier rushing him with a spear cutting it short. Mede parried it away on instinct, smacked the soldier in the mouth snapping his head back and breaking most of his teeth. A sword stab and the young man stopped screaming.
“DECANUS!” Brevis roared from the top of the contested wooden palisade. “March east now! I’ll defend here.”
“East sir?” he queried very confused.
“The gates Mede,” Brevis said jumping over the slaughtered bodies covering now the inside of the walls just as they did the outside earlier. “They are retreating to form up the slope. Mede they are turning the machines even as we speak!”
Mede crooked his mouth and stared at the rocky terrain leading to the incline before Oldfort’s stone gates. His right eye had completely closed and Mede couldn’t use it. Donlon helped an injured Surus climb down the stairs three meters away. The fact Surus had made it up the ladder impressive given he lacked a shield. That he was still walking with an arrow sticking out of him darn right bizarre. Venius Gata coming right after him, the young man’s face haunted from just witnessing his kin getting brutally killed before his very eyes moments earlier.
“Form up,” Mede croaked, his voice crackling and barely audible. Brevis groaned in frustration and turned to the men himself.
“AFTER THE DECANUS! MOVE YER ARSES YE FUCKING IDIOTS!” He roared and shoved a barely standing Mede forward to get him going. “UP THE SLOPES! ONE! TWO! MOVE!”
“There are enemies at the near Centurion!” Donlon argued and Brevis smacked him on the shoulder with the flat of his blade.
“March away soldier!” He growled irate. “Leave him,” he yelled at another with a glare carrying a bleeding injured legionnaire. “He’s gone.”
The Decanus hobbled forward for a couple of strides before realizing he’d the spike of a caltrop sticking out of the front of his boot. The leather darkened with blood.
Nail went clean through yer sole, Mede mumbled, his mouth numb and froth covering the sides of it. He waved his sword and the men of the 2nd Maniple that had made it in started heading towards the gates.
With a muffled groan Mede hobbled after them.
> Crafterson was killed in Logan’s ferocious charge on the Lesia Regulars lines. The men watched in disbelief as the Northmen hacked and slashed throwing their bodies on the spears with little regard for their safety. Once they were close enough their superior ferocity led them through the shattered thin in depth lines and Crafterson’s men were split in two.
>
> With their commander dead, half of them retreated under heavy pressure towards the tower and the rest broke and run south with Northmen after them. Logan’s assault stalled as Sir Napoli’s reserves helped galvanize the defenders momentarily, but Brevis who’d taken over the palisade led two Centuries against them and hit them from the rear. Durio’s machines, they kept approaching taking advantage of the fort’s defenders focusing on the advancing cohorts, managed to critically hit the tower. They destroyed the crews at the top and set it alight. This freed up a large portion of the legionnaires, who followed the remnants of the 1st Century up the slope towards the west gates.
>
> At this point Sir Napoli was killed trying to redeem himself for failing to help Feld some months back and Faro’s troops without Sir Paris Riveras counter-attacked coming from the south. It was a poorly led effort, the burning tower and palisade adding to the plummeting morale of the defenders along the collapse of their west flank and center.
>
> Merenda who had managed to reach the top of the north stone walls had found himself cornered there fighting the fort’s defenders that had rushed to reinforce their friends from the Citadel. This gave Lepidus -who had arrived to help out an injured Kaeso- the opportunity to break through the east and march across the yard against the west gates defenders effectively splitting Crane’s forces in two.
>
> In a battlefield covered in smoke, the burning tower adding to it, Durio’s machines found themselves having a free reign suddenly after months of suffering against the better positioned Oldfort’s engines. While they had suffered casualties initially at this point they had the opportunity to aim and unleash a devastating barrage on the citadel itself. And they did. Unfortunately it caught Merenda’s and Lepidus forces as well causing great harm to friends and foes. Durio hadn’t issued the order as he’d been injured seriously in the leg earlier and Centurion Toni Drano would be court-martialed after the battle for his callous decision.
>
> Callous or not, the Citadel was ravaged and set alight in turn, trapping Crane and fifty men inside, along his family and some other Lesia officers’ wives. The Faro forces seeing Oldfort covered in smoke and flames lost their spirit. They started retreating south as well, but Logan and Brevis followed after them and soon the retreat turned into a rout.
>
> Brevis ordered his men to stop not having a clear picture of what was happening. Centurion Mangas had been killed earlier when part of the flaming tower collapsed on him and that had left him the only Centurion in the center, with Centurion Capito injured moments before and Gata killed before the walls of the palisade. While the Legionnaires stopped their pursuit of the Faro forces Logan and his Northmen didn’t. The rout turned into a savage butchery as the Nords killed indiscriminately taking no prisoners for about half a kilometer.
>
> Sir Riveras heavy cavalry put a stop to that charging on the Northmen out of the edges of Wild Vines woods and killing Aiden O’ Dollan one of the leaders. The man had lost his brother earlier that day and was unwilling to stop fighting. Sir Riveras shocking charge caused great casualties to the northerners and Lucius who had left the rear galloping near the front fearing such a setback, ordered Optio Long’s nearby still untrained force to save the Nords that had gotten caught in the open road far beyond the palisade.
>
> Sir Riveras seeing enemy cavalry approaching and Oldfort burning in the background decided to withdraw. He had started to lose knights either way due to Logan and Layton’s dogged resistance and while he’d the advantage locally, it was a sound decision.
>
> Layton decapitating a charging horse and then goring the knight riding it in the same blow just afore his eyes probably helping him reach that decision quicker.
>
> The remnants of the defenders that escaped, mainly Faro troops marched south following the road to Lord Caxaton’s positions hoping to organize a counter attack but found the camps empty and abandoned. Lord Caxaton was kilometers away beyond the Wine Bridge by that point assaulting the second crossing over Mabindon to get near the walls of Cartagen.
>
> Without knowledge of what had happened Sir Riveras retreated towards Sava, stopping the supply caravans that were still coming up the road and turning them back. He had around seven hundred men with him and most of his excellent men-at-arms. Six hundred were from Faro out of a thousand, which meant that he’d lost about forty percent of his force in less than an hour, mostly to Logan’s men.
>
> Sir Paris Riveras severe casualties paled on what others suffered that day.
>
> Commander Crane’s force was killed to a man, himself and a good number of others burned alive inside the citadel. Late Sir Napoli’s Sava troops were completely decimated bringing the total to eight hundred and fifty, plus the men of the also killed Commander Crafterson from Armium that had defended the woods. From an initial force of six hundred men, two hundred and fifty had stayed near Oldfort and died there, the rest traveling to the Wine Bridge and then following Lord Caxaton against Valens guards.
>
> The III Legio’s casualties were varied. The vaunted First Cohort lost three hundred men, the First Century losing the majority of its officers. Primus Pilus Gata, Centurion Mangas, Decanus Herius, Gurus, Damian and Cercus were killed, with Decanus Agrippa, Prefect Durio, Decanus Mede injured. Merenda and Lepidus lost a hundred and twenty men, most to casualties coming from friendly fire near the end of the struggle. Centurion Kaeso was injured and his unit left with fourteen rangers and thirty wounded, as he added fifty six men to the tally. Logan lost around eighty men, fifty from Sir Riveras cavalry but his unit accounted for a huge number of Lesia soldiers deaths.
>
> In the final day of Oldfort’s siege Lucius lost five times more men than what he’d lost during the entire siege and while the outcome shocked the Praetor it opened the road wide for him to advance again. The Roadblock had been removed. The III Legio had broken out of the mountain paths just as the summer came to an end.
>
> Four days later with the ruin of Oldfort still burning, the first advance units of Optio Long’s rebuilt cavalry reached Lord Caxaton’s old campsite and cut the road that supplied Lord Lennox’s whole northern pincer, trapping over four thousand soldiers and rear personnel inside the fertile narrow strip of land between the two bridges, an idyllic flat wooded gorge left between East and West Tricorn Heights hugged by Mabindon’s legs called the Vine Garden.
>
>
>
> -
>
>
>
> Lord Sirio Veturius
>
> The Fall of Heroes
>
> Chapter II
>
> (Lord Lucius Alden,
>
> -also addressed-
>
> Legatus Augustus, Praetor Maximus
>
> Southern campaigns,
>
> Fourth & Fifth year
>
> Volume IX-X
>
> Eighteen Months Offensive
>
> Part II
>
> Section subtitle
>
> Tiger in the Vine fields
>
> -The Vine Garden encirclement, the road to Sava & the King of Cartagen-
>
> Late summer of 193- to winter of 194)
>
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read it at Royalroad : https://www.royalroad.com/fiction/46739/touch-o-luck-the-old-realms
& https://www.royalroad.com/fiction/47919/lure-o-war-the-old-realms
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