Stories thread - King of the Romans PBM

[AussieGiant]

Trent 1380

Bolts had been fizzing around the Dread Duke since the battle had begun. His shield had taken 3 direct hits while amazingly one bolt was still protruding from the join in his shoulder plate, blood oozed down his breast plate and onto his thigh guards and grieves. The plate barding of his horse was equally covered in arrows and bolts.

A rider approached the hive of activity that made up Arnold's retinue. Making his way past the Dread Knight and the Berserker Grom, the messenger kept his eyes down and finally spoke up.

"My Lord!!" He shouted over the din of the battle taking place forward of their position.

"Lord Bernhard has perished in his engagement with Ruppel, Max Zirn sends word that they have prevailed never the less. They request orders at this time!"

At that moment the sky seemed to darken, the messenger looked around in panic for a moment.

The Dread Duke looked across at the front lines for a second and said:

"Achtung!! Bolts incoming, SHIELDS UP!!"

With a barely noticeable movement the entire regiment complied, except the Duke himself who seemed totally oblivious to the hail of death approaching.

As the final bolts thudded home there was a small gurgling sound that drew the Duke's attention...turning back to the messenger,Arnold raised an eyebrow at the now dying man. He shook his head in disgust at his feeble attempts to remove the crossbow bolt that was now lodged in his throat.

"Get me another messenger!!"

Glancing at Grom the Duke said with an exasperated tone. "When will these young knights start listening to me??!! I say things for a reason!!

Grom, get over to the right flank and give Max, and Ludwig this message!" The Duke handed the huge man a note covered in the Dukes own blood.

"And don't get yourself killed, get back here with their answers immediately."

Arnold looked to his left and saw Hugo and Lothar’s standards still flying, behind him the two massive BLACK and RED flags were still being waved back and forth as he had ordered.

The work was getting grim now and it was certainly not over yet he thought to himself.

Swinging his war horse around to his personal regiment the Duke thundered;

"Right you stinking whoresons!! It looks like we are going to see some action, when that bastard GROM gets back we are going to see how these Imperial scum handle the Dread LORD and his Regiment!!

Say your prayers and touch your lucky charms men, because I'm taking you to HELL AND BACK!!"

The roar from Arnold's personal retinue was staggering, for a moment the front line paused at the noise before resuming their deadly battle, the critical point was now upon everyone...who would rise to the occasion and cement themselves into history and who would fall and be forgotten forever?