Curse of Overnia
Thorisund rides skillfully with the best warriors of the tribe past the newly erected Läu and arrives at the Rona.
A wooden bridge built by the Romans towers over the water, and beyond the bridge lies the Western Roman no-man's land.
Officially, the territory belongs to the Western Roman Empire, but it is cut off from the outside world on all sides. The terrain alternates between hills and flatlands. Dense forests cover the land, and the warriors pass many abandoned villages.
The ominous noise grows louder as the brave warriors arrive in the region of Overnia. The area beyond the Rona is dangerous, and most Gauls feel abandoned by the Western Roman Empire. Many have fled to Nyskiria, Burgundy, or the Frankish Empire in search of a better life.
From afar, the constant ringing of bells from a Chalcedonian church can be heard, and the town is in a state of emergency.
Thorisund arrives at the mountain village, where women and children run towards him. Thorisund stops one woman and asks seriously, "What is happening here?"
The woman's eyes seem plagued by madness, and hysterical breathing fills her lungs. She screams directly into Thorisund's face, "LET GO, YOU HEATHEN SCUM!" She slaps the horse and runs for her life. The horse panics, loses control, and throws the general to the ground. The horse then bolts into the forest. The warriors are confused and look in the general direction from which the people are coming.
Thorisund gets up from the ground, dirt adorning his red hair. He pulls a branch from his hair and looks toward the people. One of the warriors asks, "Thoris, should we help them or go directly to the stone circle?"
Thorisund doesn't hesitate and says, "Seven of you help the people, and the other thirteen come with me to the hilltop."
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Troyx
On the hill, chaos rages as Germanic bandits plunder the area. The screams of death and fear, amplified by the Carnyx, still echo, and Crixus Troyx runs, panicked, toward the village.
"By Toutatis! I'm not dying here! I've only been a druid for a year!"
Panicked, Troyx runs down the path and hides in the bushes. He looks back; a steep slope is behind him. He turns his head toward the hill, and the voices of the bandits echo in the forest: "One of them has escaped! Find him and bring me his head! We'll take care of the old one."
Troyx breathes nervously as the voices draw closer.
A hand grabs Troyx by the collar, yanking him forcefully from the bushes and throwing him to the ground. As Troyx looks up, he sees the grim face of one of the Germanic attackers. He can barely process what is happening before the German kicks him in the stomach.
The German grabs Troyx by his brown hair and drags him toward the other attackers. But before he reaches them, Troyx faints from terror.
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Battle for Läu
The sky rages and thunders as a storm approaches. Dark clouds cover the heavens like a blanket, allowing no sunlight to pierce through. Amidst the growing darkness, Anton discusses the war plan with his generals.
"We'll divide our forces into four divisions. Göll will lead the Raven Division with his archers. You'll work alongside Thorvik's Wisent Division, who will support you with their shields. I'll lead the Boar Division—we'll charge into the town and engage the militia. The Cavalry Division, led by Altansarnai (Alta), will protect the left flank and use their bows to flank from an elevated position. The Raven Division will cover our rear and the left flank. Additionally, all left-handed fighters will move to the left to prevent us from being flanked!"
Anton feels a flicker of nervousness but brushes it aside, pressing forward toward Läu. A caravan of 750 warriors advances on the city engulfed in flames, each division's animal banner proudly raised to the sky. The Gauls, mainly untrained citizens of Läu with only a handful of militia, muster a force of roughly 1,300. They form a simple battle line at the front, while the Nyskirian army takes a slanted formation.
Before Läu stand the assembled ranks of Nyskirian warriors, powerful figures clad in leather armor, proven helmets, and coarse cloaks made of animal furs. In their hands, long spears, heavy axes, and shields glint in the dim light. The dark silence before the storm echoes ominously through the thundering weather, and dense fog blankets the battlefield, creeping over the land like a living shroud. Symbols of the gods rise on both sides, and the Nyskirian army draws ever closer to the city.
The experienced fighters are positioned on the right, with the younger, less experienced warriors on the left. Step by step, the two armies close in until the Gauls, lacking any clear strategy, charge recklessly at the Nyskirian forces. Anton sounds the signal horn, and the first wave of Nyskirian warriors charges forward. The warriors surge ahead, their faces set in grim determination, their steps unyielding. They swing their spears and hammers as they run toward the Gauls, while arrows and slingshot stones whiz through the air, slowing the initial onslaught. The battle rages as both sides clash, but the Nyskirian forces hold back from taking lives, fighting with discipline and restraint. In contrast, the Gauls, driven by bloodlust and frenzy, show no hesitation, charging like beasts into the fray.
The battle for the Gallic territory appears to be one-sided. Despite their greater numbers, the Gauls seem to be struggling against the Nyskirian forces. With Anton's Futhark powers, he manages to ensnare most of the Gauls in roots. War cries and sounds of pain fill the air as it begins to pour down rain in torrents.
A Carnyx rises into the air, and an otherworldly sound fills the battlefield.
The Gauls seem even more aggressive, and the first effects of the Carnyx appear to be taking hold. The young and inexperienced Nyskir warriors begin to show signs of fear as a large Gaul charges toward them. His eyes glow red like the blood he wishes to spill, and he charges with an axe raised. Thorvik, whose task is to protect, steps up to face the large Gaul.
The Gaul crashes into Thorvik and strikes his shield repeatedly with his axe. Furiously, he chips away at the shield, piece by piece, until only an iron boss remains. With that, Thorvik strikes back at the Gaul, and to his surprise, the Gaul seems hardly wounded.
Thorvik is visibly astonished as the Gaul seems unfazed, while the Gaul punches Thorvik in the stomach. Thorvik is sent flying nearly twenty meters backward, throwing the formation into chaos. Thorvik feels pain for the first time in his life, and for the first time, Thorvik laughs heartily.
"HAHAHAHAA FINALLY, A WORTHY OPPONENT!"
The Gaul smiles at him and looks down from above:
"REMEMBER MY NAME, MY NAME IS DUMNOTRIX! TREMBLE, YOU BARBARIAN!"