Tirithedain
Newbie
The Bulletin reads:
Posted this day, the 7th of September, in the Year 420.
The rays of the last summer morning’s sun danced upon polished helmets and glittered on the tips of spears. The trumpets had sounded, and the army roused from slumber. Today, sergeants barked commands at their troop; camp was to be broken. Cavalrymen strapped barding to their horses. Officers inspected assembled units Today, Acarthia marched.
Mess personnel today had prepared a special breakfast of eggs and sausage to celebrate the day, and to give the men one last decent meal, something to remember on the long road ahead. High Marshall Ravus himself had ordered it be so, and had the feast purchased from the coffers of The Vigilant.
Spirits are high, and soldiers joke about how many of the “rotters” they are going to send back to the earth. Others are somber, and speak to few as they gather up their supplies and kit. Still more spend time on the fringes, saying their goodbyes to friends and family, promising to come home. Gifts are exchanged, and farewells said.
The trumpets sound again, and the army falls in line. Orders are shouted, and the men begin to move.
Citizens line the road near the north gate to the city to see their triumphant heroes off, many cheering, waving flags and banners, some, their faces fraught with worry.
A faint chorus of The Long Morning can be heard, growing as the army marches northward. The song grows to a crescendo as the columns of the army embrace it, their voices heard above the clatter of armor and the tromping of marching feet.
The notes of worry remain in the song however. It is never certain, the outcome of such things. And while the sun may be high in the sky, a storm waits just on the horizon.
Today, we cast our blessings upon our soldiers, and put in them, the hope for the Kingdom.
Today, Acarthia marches to war.
_______________
A few days late posting this, sorry for the delay!
Posted this day, the 7th of September, in the Year 420.
The rays of the last summer morning’s sun danced upon polished helmets and glittered on the tips of spears. The trumpets had sounded, and the army roused from slumber. Today, sergeants barked commands at their troop; camp was to be broken. Cavalrymen strapped barding to their horses. Officers inspected assembled units Today, Acarthia marched.
Mess personnel today had prepared a special breakfast of eggs and sausage to celebrate the day, and to give the men one last decent meal, something to remember on the long road ahead. High Marshall Ravus himself had ordered it be so, and had the feast purchased from the coffers of The Vigilant.
Spirits are high, and soldiers joke about how many of the “rotters” they are going to send back to the earth. Others are somber, and speak to few as they gather up their supplies and kit. Still more spend time on the fringes, saying their goodbyes to friends and family, promising to come home. Gifts are exchanged, and farewells said.
The trumpets sound again, and the army falls in line. Orders are shouted, and the men begin to move.
Citizens line the road near the north gate to the city to see their triumphant heroes off, many cheering, waving flags and banners, some, their faces fraught with worry.
A faint chorus of The Long Morning can be heard, growing as the army marches northward. The song grows to a crescendo as the columns of the army embrace it, their voices heard above the clatter of armor and the tromping of marching feet.
The notes of worry remain in the song however. It is never certain, the outcome of such things. And while the sun may be high in the sky, a storm waits just on the horizon.
Today, we cast our blessings upon our soldiers, and put in them, the hope for the Kingdom.
Today, Acarthia marches to war.
_______________
A few days late posting this, sorry for the delay!