The Northern Wars

“Move it along peasants.” one of the soldiers shouted as he pushed another tribal down the line.

The morning had been rather hectic at the border checkpoint as it always was on the days they shipped their prisoners to the capitol. The loading of the prisoners had gone off without a hitch and the soldiers opened up the borders the following day- everything continued on as per the new norm in the imperial-occupied town. Ahglorian fur traders were lined up on both sides of the border, either to travel into Legion to sell their fur or to return home with their pockets full of fully-taxable gold, waiting to declare themselves at the checkpoint. Occasionally smugglers were found and their illegal contents were confiscated to be sent to the capitol as evidence against them on trial before the King, and sometimes a ruffian would be apprehended, usually some young thief or tribal who got too cocky before the Imperial Legionaries.

The morning had been rather hectic at the border checkpoint as it always was on the days they shipped their prisoners to the capitol. The loading of the prisoners had gone off without a hitch and the soldiers opened up the borders the following day- everything continued on as per the new norm in the imperial-occupied town. Ahglorian fur traders were lined up on both sides of the border, either to travel into Legion to sell their fur or to return home with their pockets full of fully-taxable gold, waiting to declare themselves at the checkpoint. Occasionally smugglers were found and their illegal contents were confiscated to be sent to the capitol as evidence against them on trial before the King, and sometimes a ruffian would be apprehended, usually some young thief or tribal who got too cocky before the Imperial Legionaries.

So far Pierre counted seven new prisoners since the departure of the prison caravan during his previous shift at the checkpoint. It was high noon now and the prison wagon had shipped off at the first sunlight. Seven prisoners in seven hours, these godless oafs have no sense of respect for law and order, Pierre thought to himself as he looked in disgust at the barbaric tribals before him. They were reigned by total anarchy and, as far as the people of Legion were concerned, they were slaves to it. The tribals smoked their strange herbs and they had no King, not even chiefs or shamans; they just lived in the wilds raping, pillaging, and murdering as they pleased. Another tribesman dressed in Legionary clothing approached him, next in line. The man was well spoken and had papers stating that he was a citizen of Legion.

“Have you anything to declare?” Pierre asked the man as a formality.

“No, no, I’m travelling with just the clothes on my back and the gold in my pocket. The non-taxable limit is 5 gold coins and I’m only carrying three.” the man spoke in fluent Legion without any trace of a Northern accent.

“Name and intent abroad?” the soldier continued his routine questionnaire with only a slight hint of interest in the strange man.

“My name is Edwin Sinclair, I took on my wife’s maiden name when we married.” the man answered in response to the soldier’s obvious curiosity, to which he responded with laughter at the shopkeeper’s expense.

“The whip of her snatch can be seen from a mile away by the outfit alone, but her family's name only serves to make even more of a buffoon out of the primitive monkey before me dressed in a rich man's clothes. What are your intentions abroad then?” the vulgar guard laughed at his crude jokes.

“I'd rather be a well-dressed barbarian than a heavily armoured oaf with a target on his back where he stands upon the border of hostile lands unjustly seized by an arrogant king.” Edwin replied indignantly, totally ignoring the border guard's question after taking offence to the snide comment.

“Is that a threat, or perhaps treason? If you love your wife so much I'd suggest you start answering my questions- you think you get special treatment above the law just because you married one of our whores? What are your intentions in the north? Obviously you know of the troubles in the region- for what purpose do you travel north?.” Pierre rebutted testily.

Once Pierre had settled back into the more serious demeanour of his role, the man went on to tell the imperial lad of his family in the North and his annual trip to their village, to which Pierre yawned and shoved the man along uninterestedly. The day was slowly passing by and it was only the moments like that where Pierre could find some small thing to spark his interest that caused the time to steadily pass by. The rest of the shift was mostly just listening to the pagans drone on, in broken Legion or falteringly in the Common Tongue, of their business abroad. Very rarely did the soldiers find some smuggler or carrier of contraband amongst the multitudes of travelers to and from the border.

There had been a brief period where they received a swarm of smugglers of illegal cannabis, though it slowed down as the word steadily spread throughout the rest of Ahglor of the imperial change in law following their seizure of the formerly Ahglorian border. It was long and dull work and Pierre was always glad to finish his shift at the local tavern with his nightly routine of pints of Legion Lager before turning in for the night. The men of the Imperial Legion took residence at the pub at no charge by the order of the King- it was the law of the land that all citizens of Legion could be ordered at any time to house soldiers of the King’s Army in times of war and peace.

Before long his shift was over and Pierre found himself sitting in a chair at the desk in his room at the tavern writing a letter addressed to his brother Jean back home. To told his brother of the dull routine that was the daily life of the Imperial Legion in Avon town and finished by sealing the letter in an envelope to take to the postman in the morning. He had been deployed for nearly a month with his company in the Northern lands; so far three of his fellows had fallen at the hand of the barbarians. The Legion had been met with resistance initially, though they took the town quickly with little difficulty and only a few casualties. He set the sealed envelope down on the desk and withdrew himself to the bed before blowing out the bedside candle to sleep the night away in darkness...

Pierre awoke at the first sunlight as the sun rose over the hilly woods on the eastern horizon and dressed himself for his day’s shift. It was his turn at the patrol duty and he joined with his fellow men into a four-man squad They were being led by an aristocratic officer who quite obviously had gained his position from the influence of his wealthy family. The young officer was still looking fresh from the training academy and he seemed as if he would crumple at the slightest blow. Under his command, they would scour the northern tree-line that surrounded the small town they occupied.

Patrol duty was the least favourable job amongst the soldiers. They resented their assignment to it and pitied those whose turn it was to leave the relative safety of town to scour the woods. Occasionally a patrol would go missing or they would find and arrest tribesmen attempting to illegally cross the border. To the patrol, it seemed that neither was the case today however, or so they wished, as they embarked on their day’s duty. The men made their way out of the town centre and scanned the woods for any signs of movement as they trekked further into the Ahglorian lands of the North. Several other four-man squads departed from the town alongside them, fanning out and spreading in every direction to patrol for anyone seeking to illegally cross the imperial border. Such an act was punishable by death, should they manage to find themselves unlucky enough to be captured alive and convicted of the crime in the imperial court.

The men tightly gripped their weapons in white-knuckled fists as they scoured the thickly forested hills. The mountainous region was densely populated by pine tree growth and it was difficult to see very far ahead in any direction. The tribal natives of those lands were well-practised in the art of guerilla warfare and they knew those woods well. The Imperial Legionaries had grown to despise the Northern lands and cursed their people. This held true at that very moment as Pierre damned his lot in life, trudging through the wood anxiously as he scanned the woods for any signs of activity. The shining steel plate armour of the soldiers was extremely noticeable in those woods and the Legionaries made for a highly visible and incredibly easy target for the pagan Ahglorians of the North.

Suddenly an arrow pierced the tense silence as it thudded into the bark of a nearby pine tree, Pierre saw it even as it flew in between his fellow squad-mates. The commanding officer barked orders and Pierre rushed alongside his companions to follow them; their very lives depended on it. There was no sign of the archer responsible for the shot and the soldiers spread out in search of the offender. One of the men let out a shout; he’d found the lone barbarian, though much to his surprise the barbarian was not alone. Several more of the Northern warriors dropped from the boughs of some of the taller pine trees down onto the man of the patrol below, killing him easily as he was outnumbered at least seven to one. Pierre had witnessed the whole affair from maybe ten metres away as he called out to his fellows for support.

"Putain! Over here, quickly!" He called out as he scrambled to better position himself in opposition against them, ducking behind his shield as he darted for cover in the foliage.

There were three archers amongst the group of Northerners and they all fired simultaneously at Pierre even as he ducked behind the cover of one of the thicker nearby pine trees. His fellow companions rushed the tribals with a second nearby imperial squad and their commanding officer fell first, shot down by a flurry of Ahglorian arrows from the brush. Another imperial threw himself with all of his might as he charged forth in his final moments, bringing one of the Ahglorian archers down with him as he was riddled with arrows and beheaded shortly after thrusting his sword through his target's chest. Two more imperials fell as the nocked and fired an arrow each into the overgrowth- one striking an Ahglorian and the other whizzing through the bush only to thud harmlessly into a tree.

The first archer managed to nock a second arrow to the bow string before he was felled whilst the second ran into cover to dodge the flurry of arrows that downed his companion. Their own captain and called out the order to attack that ironically led to his death as the acquired attention led to his own demise at the archers' hands. The first of the only two surviving patrol members were slaughtered as he broke upon the squad of tribal warriors where he spotted a couple taking cover. His steel plate armour was pierced with a single spear thrust as he swung his sword at the primitive warrior who now stood over his corpse, unscathed and victorious. Pierre hid behind the temporary safety of his tree in shock as he stared at the three dead bodies of his fallen squad and the other three of the supporting squad.

He was the lone survivor of the patrol and his fellow exchanged a quick nod as the glance at each other from where they both had taken to the cover of the surrounding foliage. They had just witnessed the massacre firsthand for themselves and know in their hearts that they were defeated. Pierre knew he stood no chance against the tribals and he didn’t want to die like his fellows, and as he started across the forest floor at his kinsmen a couple metres away, he knew his fellow countryman didn't want to either. Taking the only option that left them any chance of survival, Pierre jumped out of cover and ran, hearing his fellow soldier do the same from what he heard, though neither looked back or to their sides as they ran.

He ducked in and out of the trees and dodged arrow after arrow as he attempted to outrun the stronger and faster Northerners in his rush to the safety of the open plains that surrounded Avon town. If he could make it to the edge of the wood he would have the advantage as the Imperial Legion was superior to the Ahglorians in open battle. They wouldn’t take the risk of continuing their pursuit if he could make it that far, though they would try with all of their might to stop him dead in his tracks before he could make it so far. His fellow countryman screamed in agony as Pierre heard the heavy thud of a body dropping to the woodland floor.

Shouts rose up from behind him and he paid them no mind as the imperial youth crashed through the woods at full speed. Before long he broke through the tree-line and into the open arms of Avon town, though the Ahglorians were still hot on his heels. He felt a sudden sharp pain in his left shoulder and he crumpled to the ground from the power of the shot that pierced his silver-plated armour as one of the Ahglorian arrows made its mark. Even as he laid in searing agony from his injury he could just make out the glint of sunlight reflected off the shiny armour of his countrymen as they rushed to his aid before he blacked out, drifting into a deep state of unconsciousness as he felt the paralysing poison of the Spinasloog's needle-tipped arrowhead where it had penetrated his armour.