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Silhouettes of Noble lords and Governors could be seen through the fog and smoke on the hills overlooking the blasted plain. A sea of death and despair lay where once rippled tall grasses and wildflowers like waves in the summer breeze. The peasants and villagers came from out of the gloom; some to forage for loved ones, others to loot among the battered and broken bodies of warriors and their faithful steeds. Looters hoping to come upon a rare bauble from a mages corpse or salvage a fine steel blade or two, that could raise enough coin to see the living through the cold months ahead. The others hoping to come upon a loved one with enough life left in them to heal back to health. There were citizens from both sides of the conflict and no matter what, through all their searching they fought hard not to look into one another's eyes, knowing the mirror of grief, pain and emptiness they would find within. While upon the hill beyond Nobles and Persons of State counted their losses and gains like so much coin, all the while claiming it was in the peoples interest this battle over land or whatever item it was they would hold power from. Either way it was the people who paid for the real cost in goods, coin and lives. Earlier all souls rallied for the cause. Nobles, Statesmen, Guild masters saw need to act, to preserve all they thought dear, their economy, culture and yes, even their very freedom was at risk. The need to act was real and urgent the time for rational discussion to resolve the crisis was running out; to this all agreed after listening to their leaders wise council. The people came forth with food, steel and materials in support of the realm, including the most precious commodity of all the men and women to fill the ranks. Earlier that day grassy plains burst with colorful armor, silk banners and flags. The morning sun shown like a thousand points of light upon the many lances, spears and swords that rose with the battle cry as both sides swept across the field below. The very ground shook and thundered with hooves and boots charging to meet steel on steel, muscle against muscle, destiny against fate. The battle cry grew dimmer as the sun marched across the sky. The din of war quieter by each cleaved helm, shattered lance and chipped blade. At the end, who was to say, I was right and you were wrong. At the end, then they asked was there not more we could have done to prevent this tragedy of humanity, could not more have been accomplished for the good of all peoples had both realms cared less about the petty grievance of rich nobles and their lust for more power. A soldier trains at his craft, his goal of martial skill bent on protection and defense, to preserve, not to destroy. Armies do not start wars; they fight them when called upon, with honor and diligence, their lives the price paid so that others and their way of life may live on. An Armies Victory will live on in story and song. The price of An Armies victory should be a most precious coin, only to be spent after patient exhaustion of all options and debate. An Armies Victory is the silent tear on a mothers face as another day ends and her son has not come home for dinner. ~DeepLake "Forest Rogue" | |