The meadow heir and his mercenary

Like celestial hell-fire, the skies above the meadow battleground were congested with volleys from both armies. While the Clan’s attack, led by the young Captain, was fierce it was the decisive wave from the meadow’s young king that rang most true. The meadow’s king had a new servant never before seen by the Clan; a mercenary forged from the land of molten iron. The mercenary’s previous benefactor was also a youthful sovereign therefore the mercenary knew how to serve his new commander…….and serve him this day, he did.

As the Clan retreated from the meadow to the victorious sounds from its defenders, Urbanos looked among his warriors, but saw instead shells. Men, who were doomed before the first foot had been placed upon the meadow. The warriors recent battles had taken them from the Bay of the Far Left, to the scorching deserts, and now to the damnable meadows. This was too much to ask of any warrior, but asked it had been.

Urbanos could not make a sound, but rather listened to the murmurings of his men. Some would say “Why not submit to our foes and throw ourselves on the mercy of the gods of the Great Choosing. Maybe they will grant us favor as they did so long ago in providing us our heroic protector, Orlandis.” Others could be heard, “It is too soon for our fates to be decided. We still have young warriors not yet seasoned…..give them more time”. But a whipered, yet elemental breath from a familiar voice caught the ear of Urbanos, “The past is no longer important. We must return home, but not for the rest desired. Indeed, quite the opposite. The Emerald Raptors of the Northwest march to the Homeland. The hope of future victories may well rest in the battle at hand. The Homeland must be defended.”

Urbanos knew all too well that to define a warrior, their most basic desires must be measured. For any warrior of the Clan, defending the homeland must be that desire. The warrior’s desire must be fulfilled.