South of Yerevan, 1137:
Night:
Azzim watched the cloud of fog escaping his mouth as he breathed. The temperature was freezing and the moist air made his cloth cling. They had been roused about an hour ago. Byzantine soldiers had been seen in the vicinity. Surely this couldn't be right. Their general had been seen moving south towards Dyarbakir. He was probably sieging it right now, if the Crown Prince hadn't defeated them yet. Even then it would take the harshest of taskmasters to rally his men back here in this time. It just couldn't be. It probably was a false alarm.
A faint whirring noise pulled Azzim out of his reverie. He cocked his head to listen. Couldn't that be. Didn't that almost sound like. Turning to his comrade to voice his oppinion he was greeted by a loud tchuck! Azzim stared in disbelief at the arrow portruding from his comrades chest before realization hit him. Gripping his spear tighter he turned towards the foggy night: "Attack! We are under attack!"
Once again Azzim and his fellow Javelinmen were greeted by arrows coming out of the dark night. His comrades fell all around him and it was all that Azzim could do to cling on to his spear as another volley descended upon them. Azzim felt a warm sensation on his hip and realized that an arrow had struck him. Gripping his spear tighter he remains standing while the earth begins to shake. Staring out into the darkness he blinks away the sweat that had appeared on his brow.
He tried to focus and once he could see clearly his eyes went wide! A giant horse came galloping out of the fog It was the last thing he saw before a Byzantine lance gutted him.
Day:
Casim watched the cloud of fog escaping his mouth as he breathed. The temperature was freezing and the moist air made his cloth cling. They had been roused about an hour ago. Byzantine soldiers had been seen in the vicinity. Surely this couldn't been right. They had only laid siege to Yerevan about a month ago and their Southern flank was guarded by a large company of Javelinmen. Nothing would get past them for now. The only thing that would come out of that fog would be their reinforcements. It probably was a false alarm.
A faint whirring noise pulled Casim out of his reverie. The Javelinmen to his left and right looked as preplexed as he did, but as he turned he realized that the Horse Archers arrayed behind them had begun firing their bows. Volley after volley they sent into the dense fog and then he could hear the whinying of horses and the cries of men as they were struck by arrows. Gripping his spear tighter he turned towards the foggy day: "Attack! We are under attack!"
He tried to focus and once he could see clearly his eyes went wide! A giant horse came galloping out of the fog. It was the last thing he saw before a Byzantine lance gutted him.
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