If They're with us, who's with them?
We were standing on a hill, with great height advantage. Advantage that could not be used properly. Our main foot spearhead was the Dwarven Army. Humans got the cavalry. I was sitting on my warhorse, a beautiful breed, that, despite being heavy, could carry a fully armoured man along with all the equipment that man may have needed for weeks. The lance was getting heavy too, and I could hardly move myself in my armour. The full armour was so heavy and complicated it took 3 people to put it on. I, being trained well enough, could walk, and even run in it, for some time, but I cannot imagine fighting without a horse. My great helm was heated up greatly inside. I could feel even my eyelids sweat. I pulled the helmet off and wiped my face with a cloth.
At that same moment, the general ran in front of us. Most of us thought we don't need a general. We were all of noble birth, and could take the battle on ourselves, without the Dwarves... That's what most of us thought. I didn't.
3,000 Dwarves and 750 Horses, seemingly greatest army of Northern Kingdoms. However, we lacked good ranged support. We only had 400 Mercenary archers and crossbowmen, far insufficient, especially looking at the enemy we faced.
"Those Elves and traitors to Human Race shall never see the sun rise once again!" the general shouted. He was a young and ambitious man. Too young and too ambitious. "We will send those sons of Kilrox to Nether, where they belong! The Gods are with us!!"
We remained silent. Unlike the Dwarves and mercs, we were disciplined, we knew that silence is far more terrifying than screaming.
First arrows fired into the air. We were the most powerful house, in front of us were the second, third and fourth most powerful. Interesting. Elven arrows whizzed into the Dwarves, who would lead the attack on the right flank, as we would spread into the left. The left flank was a forest of pikes. They knew perfectly well about our plans.
Low pitched shouts and screams of Dwarves echoed across the plains in front of us. Our own archers took positions and fired. Almost no arrow reached far enough, and of those that did, hardly any managed to do any damage.
We were certain that the enemy had no cavalry themselves, due to the fact that we never seen any horses and our intelligence never said anything about them. We were therefore confident that Dwarves, who generally were useless at riding and were incapable of fighting horsemen, would do just fine against Elven Archers and some warriors with pikes and longswords.
Suddenly the drummers started hitting the drums once again. No other warning had to be given to the bloodthirsty Dwarves, who instantly started running down the hill, tripping up and screaming.
"Gentlemen! Let the sport begin!" the general shouted and laughed, putting his helmet back on. We started riding down the hill slowly. 750 Horsemen, all in beautiful armour, passed on from generations.
At about 300 Metres from the main enemy line we sped up. All at once, with one single order. Another order was then given; "Charge!"
All at once, we widened our lines, lowered our lances and charged in. The line was of two horses thick, and stretched for a huge distance.
We saw the archers slowly backing up and pikemen taking their place. Most pikes were cheap enough to be unable to penetrate our Plate armours. However, pikemen aimed at the horses, which were not as well armoured as we were.
Screams of people and sounds of dying horses replaced the sounds of dying Dwarves further away. Just in the fist charge, we must have lost about 200 men. However, the rest got through, including me.
I had to drop my lance as it was unable to stab further, 4 people already stuck to it. I dropped it and pulled out my Morgernstern, a beautiful mace that I swung about, dodging or blocking countless hits with my shield. Each knight stood like a mountain on the field of green, brown and grey. Like a mountain they held fast.
Counter-attack lead by a man with brown hair and beard, and a beautiful plate armour, stopped our momentum for a long while. We were unable to push further, as his glowing sword cut our men one by one. We needed infantry support. At this point remaining 200 Dwarves came in to help. That got us some speed in pushing, but not for long.
More horses could have been heard outside of battle, to the right. Further away then the Dwarves. It was a trap! Having a height advantage, with a quick glance my heart sunk. The forest started moving, as if it was already spring. At least 400 Horsemen jumped out of the forest, chasing each other to the doomed Dwarves, who were caught by surprise. Another 50 rode the other way, to the hill where our King's men were residing. The King himself was somewhere amongst the fighters, but his banner was nowhere to be seen.
We retreated. We had to. The Dwarves were obliterated, at least 2000 dead. Our Horses lost at least 400. That was a great blow to Nobility of Altera. My armour was dented everywhere, to the point I was uncertain whether it would open. I had to pull my Great Helmet off, because I could no longer see through it.
Suddenly, the 50 horses that everyone thought were going to get the King's Men turned sharply, and went full force into our retreating knights. They killed my best friend, Lord Maxons, by the banner of a mystical sword of Dawnbringer. Lance went through the hole in his helmet.
Chaos, chaos everywhere. I no longer knew who I was killing. I no longer knew whether the king was alive. I even forgot my name. All I could feel is my morgernstern flying out of my hand, and me automatically pulling out my sword. I could feel my sword hitting the enemy, but nothing aside from that. I didn't think about swinging, it was all automatic... And it wasn't enough.
I was caught and tortured. I heard the King made it out alive, along with 43 knights and around 400 Dwarves. I told them everything. No man can withstand tortures. That day, the Gods were not on our side, if they exist at all. I no longer believe they were ever with us, though our house was the greatest one...