Zero1
12-11-2006, 02:08
I just had an amazing siege where I greatly outnumbered my Gaulish foe, but they fought with such fervor, such courage and such tenacity that I was downright breathtaken, it was a truly epic experience and I felt as though I had to share it with you, from the perspective of my Chieftain who lead the attack, and so without further adieu...
I write this now from my camp sitting atop a hill overlooking the smoking, plundered ruins of the city the Galla called Cenabum. The population was put to the sword, unfortunately with the growth of commerce in the vein of the new tribal union headed by we the Sweboz...the forests we call home can no longer house our burgeoning populations...we need living space, and the Galla have it in abundance. It has long been a commonly held belief of we the Germanic peoples that the Celtoi are a cowardly race, proud and boisterous only when the advantage is theirs and prone to retreat the instant things look grim...I say now that this could not be less accurate.
When we approached the city we saw they had only four hundred swordsmen and one hundred twenty knights, we laughed too ourselves and expected an easy victory...we were wrong. I lead the attack with my elite of the elite retainers, beside me attacking the right wall where mercenary noble warriors similarly armed with the finest mail, swords and shields made from stout oak. Swordsbondsmen sworn to me followed in tow with the new Lancemen who had proven their use a decade ago when they held the line against a furious charge from the naked madmen the Galla call 'Gaesatae'.
To meet us when we battered down the gate the Galla had their swordsmen, as we charged forward they unleashed a volley of javelins then retreated behind the knights and towards the square. As we pursued the knights charged us, knocking men back and burrowing themselves deep in a sea of sword, spear and lance. They fought with a fury none had expected, they hacked down towards us with their great swords cleaving two score right and two score left with their mighty blows. They pushed onwards deep into us until they were surrounded, but even still amidst our sea of weapons they refused to die.
Each man seemed neigh immortal as they took innumerable sword slashes and lance punctures before they would fall, and covered with blood they fought on not giving an inch. Through merit of number we bogged them down, lancing them from their horses and taking their heads but for each we slew they slew twice that number, one knight sitting high and proud on his horse was pierced through his mail by four lances before we was taken down, and even yet he was nay dead and it took many swords to finally slay him. Their number reduced from one hundred twenty to twelve their war chief was finally slain, but he took many heads and many punctures and slashes before he was to join his ancestors.
We moved on to the square where the Gauls were waiting for us, swords in hand and murder in their eyes. My men met theirs in the square, pushing up and around, but they too would not cede an inch. When one Gaul fell his fellow would step up to take his place, impaled by lance, slashed by blade or stabbed by spear they cared not and kept their fight and mettle. The ground was awash with blood as we fought on and on and on under the setting sun until there were naught but three Gauls left standing.
Those three heroic warriors, I remember them best as all, they stood side by side in a sort of triangular shape swinging their swords with fury and rage...eventually the last three fell and the city was ours.
I regret the slaughter that followed but our people need this land to live in, and my men were hungry for plunder and filled with rage at their fallen brethren...reluctantly I ordered the sack of the city, I had no choice...I hope Tiwaz can forgive me.
I write this now from my camp sitting atop a hill overlooking the smoking, plundered ruins of the city the Galla called Cenabum. The population was put to the sword, unfortunately with the growth of commerce in the vein of the new tribal union headed by we the Sweboz...the forests we call home can no longer house our burgeoning populations...we need living space, and the Galla have it in abundance. It has long been a commonly held belief of we the Germanic peoples that the Celtoi are a cowardly race, proud and boisterous only when the advantage is theirs and prone to retreat the instant things look grim...I say now that this could not be less accurate.
When we approached the city we saw they had only four hundred swordsmen and one hundred twenty knights, we laughed too ourselves and expected an easy victory...we were wrong. I lead the attack with my elite of the elite retainers, beside me attacking the right wall where mercenary noble warriors similarly armed with the finest mail, swords and shields made from stout oak. Swordsbondsmen sworn to me followed in tow with the new Lancemen who had proven their use a decade ago when they held the line against a furious charge from the naked madmen the Galla call 'Gaesatae'.
To meet us when we battered down the gate the Galla had their swordsmen, as we charged forward they unleashed a volley of javelins then retreated behind the knights and towards the square. As we pursued the knights charged us, knocking men back and burrowing themselves deep in a sea of sword, spear and lance. They fought with a fury none had expected, they hacked down towards us with their great swords cleaving two score right and two score left with their mighty blows. They pushed onwards deep into us until they were surrounded, but even still amidst our sea of weapons they refused to die.
Each man seemed neigh immortal as they took innumerable sword slashes and lance punctures before they would fall, and covered with blood they fought on not giving an inch. Through merit of number we bogged them down, lancing them from their horses and taking their heads but for each we slew they slew twice that number, one knight sitting high and proud on his horse was pierced through his mail by four lances before we was taken down, and even yet he was nay dead and it took many swords to finally slay him. Their number reduced from one hundred twenty to twelve their war chief was finally slain, but he took many heads and many punctures and slashes before he was to join his ancestors.
We moved on to the square where the Gauls were waiting for us, swords in hand and murder in their eyes. My men met theirs in the square, pushing up and around, but they too would not cede an inch. When one Gaul fell his fellow would step up to take his place, impaled by lance, slashed by blade or stabbed by spear they cared not and kept their fight and mettle. The ground was awash with blood as we fought on and on and on under the setting sun until there were naught but three Gauls left standing.
Those three heroic warriors, I remember them best as all, they stood side by side in a sort of triangular shape swinging their swords with fury and rage...eventually the last three fell and the city was ours.
I regret the slaughter that followed but our people need this land to live in, and my men were hungry for plunder and filled with rage at their fallen brethren...reluctantly I ordered the sack of the city, I had no choice...I hope Tiwaz can forgive me.