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Within a few days, a muster was rallied from nearby towns. The peasants were brought in and equipped with the rough leftovers of their previous wearers... or, if they were lucky, the brand new weaponry and armour recently acquired. The levies of bowmen recruited to stand aside the knights stood with what pride they had, but just looking from my tower window, you could see the fear in their eyes, they too had seen the evil run through their helpless villages, who knows what fathers were stolen from their sons, who knows what torture their aging eyes beheld.
They took refuge in our large walls. There was hopelessness to them all. It seemed that they thought that whatever they had left behind would never be seen again... and it wasn't too far from the truth either. The constant raids of Beasts left nothing but smouldering ruins on the map, it was heartbreaking for one in this situation... to return and find what possessions they had are gone. Though most were peasants, and thus possessions weren't very many at all, it is still a lost home.
The horn rang through the fields as the knights stampeded in a virtuous charge from deep within the fortress, onwards towards the Forest of Arden they headed. Beregond stood beside my father as far as I could see... who knew how many of these knights would return?
***
Beregond readied his sword as he approached the forest. There was a sense of intensity, like a fierce gnawing beast growling in the uneasy silence that filled the gnarled, twisted woods. It crept in the shadows, watching with an unmoving glare- this was the presence of evil.
As the wind blew through the trees gently, now was the time. Beregond turned to my father, smiled, and shouted to the men, snaring with his noble face: "Charge!" Kicking his horse and going deep into the forest, his blade pummeled into the nearest foe, a beast's skull split in two. Alexander's lance could be seen piercing the heart of a Bestigor nearby as the other knights trampled through the forest in an incoherent manner, dodging the trees.
What beasts that lay deep within the forest would find a match today. Ungors and Gors pushed from behind the trees, unsaddling the knights, their spears digging deep into the hearts of knights. Beregond dismounted his horse and began running into the fray. His blade a wrath untold to this world, what end he would deliver to the beasts cannot be defined.
A crushing blow was dealt, though, when the knights fell as the Dragon Ogres that had been assembled in the doomed forest. What blunt weapons they had utterly crushed the bones of innocence with a single swing. Beside Alexander, Beregond fought for his life, their blades fighting in defense of each other, fighting back to back. The beasts swarmed in defiance of this purge. What Bretonnian cavalry entered the forest seemed not to come out. The hosted army of l'Anguille fell quickly in disarray as the fighting in the forest continued. As their lines began to scatter, the beasts pouring past them, Beregond could be heard shouting above the sounds of bloodshed:
"There shall be no life after this, we will make glory for ourselves here and now and may the Lady pay sympathy to our souls!" What knights around him shouted out in agreement. Lord Alexander Marcel turned to see his comrade beside him "Brothers until the end, Beregond." He said as his blade was seen sunk into the stomach of a beast.
"Until the end." Beregond said aloud, a smile upon his scarred face. His great sword gave into its bloodthirsty urge again, slaughtering another corrupted one. Alexander fought bravely. He could see him out of the corner of his eye fighting. His blade cut the throat of one and then another, the men inspired by his skill. He parried a blow, bashing his shield into the beast's face and then cutting him down by his legs to stab him through the heart whence he was on the ground. Amazing that such a man could be a skilled warrior.
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