The Great Victory
After the events in the The Long March , The king has his plans ready and gives orders through the night to begin construction of defensive works around the city of St Albans. If the Saxons will not come out from their walls, then they can starve behind them!
In the dawn light however, the gathered forces of Salisbury see the grim sight of the severed heads of the fallen knights of yesterday decorate the walls of the city! worse still, that most defiant of knights, Sir Gerin Lotha, is still alive and tied to the blasphemous Wotanic symbol; the Irmennenshaft! Shouting their defiance, they take red hot brands to his flesh, and use our good knights screams to whip themselves to a fury! their unintelligible oaths echoing across the field of battle
elþéodiglice! we’ habben eoeor ecghete dweorg!
and from this day forth the family Lotha will be linked with the cursed name of Ecghete Dweorg in the minds of all SaxonsThe Saxon horde floods out of the city, and demands a confrontation between the two forces here and now.
Ever rash, the King brings his forces down form the heights of Prea woods, and meets the enemy beneath the cities wall.
The Cymric knights charge forth, and as expected the Saxons can not withstand the first lance charge! Sir Elad leads the Salisbury knights to perfection, and times his charge to maximum effect. Like an undercut river bank the Saxon front line collapses beneath the hooves of the knights front line.
But as the press of battle grinds to a halt, the good men of Logres find themselves not only shield to shield with Saxon warriors, but also sniped at by a multiple of archers atop the walls.
The battle does not go well, and as the day wears on, and morning light becomes the heat of midday, many knights are forced to retreat to get new mounts. These Saxon dogs seem to be targeting the horses with their infernal arrows!
The battle rages, and the knights of Sarum give great account of themselves. the Family DeChalons is there in full force, avenging their brother who fell the previous day. The Kellens and the knights of Stapleford press hard upon the enemy, and heroes of Lincoln, and the bane of the Saxon king Octa are like a red scythe, ripping through the enemy lines!
Desperately the weakened forces of Salisbury battle on. None fight harder than Sir Cirdan Lothar and Sir Roland DeChalons, but even their stalwart strength cannot stop King Octa himself from coming with an axe length of Earl Rodderick!
The earls horse goes down, the Saxon king raises his axe for the fatal blow…
… and the three knights of Octas Bane return from the rear lines on fresh mounts at full tilt!
With the hurley-burley of battle making lance charges impossible, Sir Saravinus Arilius engages the Saxon king directly, whilst Sir Cynwrig Kellen and Sir Haeredoc the Red attack his personal bodyguard. With the life of of the Earl at stake, all three are filled with righteous rage as they bring their weapons down upon the foe time and time again. The Saxons desperately fend off the falling swords of the mounted knights, but their axes shatter beneath the onslaught, and they are soon dispatched in a showering fountains of gore as they are un-seemed from neck to navel!
With their King dead, the Saxon forces soon disintegrate, and the town of St Albans is once again in the hands of the men of Logres. this is arguably the greatest victory of Uthers tenure as king, despite the debilitating illness that seem to cripple his strength and cloud his mind these days.
For those who are not too badly injured to do so, the celebrations are long and joyous, going on far into the night. Beer and and wine flows without limit, the King distributes the plunder seized by the Saxons most generously, and the lords of the land feast the great heroes of the battle in the central keep, as the rest of the town feasts and returns to normal at long last.
in the deep darkness of the night, the lower ranked knights and men are awakened from their slumber in the bailey by a cacophony of screams. Dashing outside they witness a scene of horror… The assembled lords and heroes of the battle are laid waste, they stumble and shiver throughout the keep, vomiting blood and breathing their last. Sir Saravinus Arilius was first on the scene, having been uncharacteristically temperate during the celebrations, he seems to be one the only survivor from inside the keep itself… the food, or perhaps the wine, had been poisoned.
With shaking hand the Shrike of Lincoln goes to his king. The blood soaked monarch breathes no more. Our good lord Salisbury too is dead, as is the rest of his brother knights who slew King Octa that very day.
Soon the word spreads across the land, and in Salisbury the bitter lament is doubly keen, with earl and king buried on the same day.
The King is dead, the King is dead, the land has no king!
Bitter is the defeat we have snatched from the jaws of victory this day, we mourn our great and good lords of the land, and also take the time to remember the honored dead of Salisbury of lower station, who gave their lives in battle for the land, or fell to Saxon treachery in the victory celebrations afterwards!
Sir Alain DeChalaons
Sir Roland DeChalons
Sir Haeredoc the Red
Sir Cynwrig Kellen, Knight of Epona
We remember our fallen PC knights
God Save Us All!