Compass of War: Into the Limelight

The Empire of Humanity has grown thin. Diplomacy is wearing and blood is shed far and wide. In all cardinal directions, war is upon humanity. The Chosen of the Lady of Light readies her army to fight for what is right. She marches on the Silver Griffin's standard, for a wind of change shall sound once more.


1. And We Ride

As the night grew rich with daylight, the morning sun rose over the horizon of the valley, a gorgeous orange illuminating the lush grass. The clouds were an artist’s cotton swab, dipped in faint red dye underneath their crisp white backs. The distant trotting of horses could be heard coming over the shallow hill. Whinnies echoed over the clanking mass of metal plates and jingling chainmail; hundreds of cavalry knights marched to the brow to look out over the flatlands underneath them.
Lowering spears were waiting for them; steel-clad soldiers stood upright like statues in a town square, tall shields pressed against their bodies. Their helmets masked their faces, shaded and black beneath the glistening iron. Large flapping standards displayed the symbol of a white roaring Griffin, its wings out stretched as it reared against the wind. Formed in ordered lines, they looked up to their opponents, unwavering as their hearts beat in tandem.

The knights were outnumbered, fifty to one and their moral was on the edge of a knife, teetering towards fleeing in fear. One single sign of death and defeat and their loyalty would be extinguished by cowardice, for their foes were the legendary Regius Custodes, the very men who swore to protect the monarchs of the Silver Griffin. A fair woman, standing at the forefront of the army gazed down at her match, her own doubt building. Her name was Grand Archduchess Anothah, titled under The Holy Crusader, The Angel of Light and The Lady’s Daughter; her fame ran before her. Blessed with unnatural beauty, she was said to be the most gorgeous human to be given form. No inch of filth stained her golden armour, no scar showed on her perfect skin. Astride a pure, plated Unicorn, her shield was hefty but elegant and her sword gargantuan but with eloquent exquisiteness. Her shining helmet had a lengthy, magenta ponytail made of unique and luxurious hairs that wafted in the gentle breeze.
Her army was wary and scared, for they had a right to be so. Anothah’s opponent was her own brother, King Angrothar II. He was seen as the mightiest of his name, devoted to the Saviour of Men, Antronin the Everchosen. Religion versus History, this was a battle to prove who was right and who was wrong. She could see his winged helm and his colossal sword, a relic that she was supposed to wield. He stood with his men at the front, unafraid as his darkened eyes stared back at her, palms resting on the hilt of his sword in the ground. Her fear boiled to determination, scrunching her face as she spurred on her steed.

“Marshals! To me!” she yelled with great power, turning to face her army. A woman and two men rode to her on their glamourous horses, their armour etched with blessings and intricate art work. “Take each of your companies down the valley and head long into the enemy. We will break their line and from there, we head eastwards towards the city.” She commanded.
The three generals said nothing as they looked no more confident than the men and women they were about to lead, and Anothah stared at them each in their eyes. “Heed my words, my valiant warriors. I know that The Lady Of Mercy watches over us this hour, and she will grant us a glorious triumph.”

“Yes, My Lady.” They replied. “Now, onward! We will be at peace once more!” The generals galloped back to their positions, leaving Anothah to face her army. She took in a heavy and deep breath as she galloped along the front ranks of her knights.
“When I close my eyes, it’s all coming to me! That this will be the night we finally prove our cause!” she shouted with fire in her gullet, “Who said that the walls of Adrastia could never be breached?” her words boomed across the valley, without a single ear deaf from her radiant tone. “We all long for that one thing, do we not; a life that is worth living!” The knights’ hearts started to grow with resolve, being injected with courage. “Tonight, my people, there will be a reckoning!” they began to smile under their armour, pumped with fury. “I am ready! Are you with me?” she asked and they cheered back at her with heated will. “We will ride into the Limelight!” each sentence she ended, the men women grew ever more roused with battle-rage, cheers becoming roars of war. “We will shine in our own right! And we will fight for the good life!” horses whinnied along the sound of knights becoming hot blooded, rearing under the sunlight. “May our voices carry a wind of change!” she raised her sword high into the air to touch the heavens, and the sound of hundreds of drawn swords rang across the sky. “And we ride; unto victory!” she bellowed one last time, beginning her gallop to lead the charge. Her army soon followed, the quake of thundering hooves rumbling the very earth they pounded. 

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