-Alexis Lycan, 18 Years Old-
A steady rain has been pouring down, drenching everyone on the dreary battlefield. The two armies are facing each other from opposite sides of the saturated field.
Alexis' troops are outfitted in custom iron armor, accented with silver. The combination of raindrops, and the rays of sun that peeked through the clouds, make the soldiers almost shine with righteous fury. With a large shield in their left hand and long spear in the right, Alexis' army looks similar to the ancient Lycan Guard of old.
While on the other side, Anstrada's soldiers wear ill-fitting leather and cloth armor, shabbily pieced together. Their swords are visibly nicked and worn, some even still covered in red stains, the blood of the innocent most likely. They are clustered together in a rough group with no clear organization. They look to be nothing more than bandits, and to the people of Baronet Anstrada's domain, they are.
Standing haphazardly in front of the Baronet's troops are the assembled peasants. With no armor to be seen, and just old farming tools in their hands, they are a sorry sight to behold. Placed on the front lines, the peasants are to act more as a deterrent and body shields more than anything. And they knew it. Fear is permanently etched on their faces as heads swivel back and forth between the two armies. Only death awaits them on that field.
Alexis arranged his forces into four rows of six soldiers. The front row would exclusively use their swords, while the rest would use the spears. The soldiers on the ends of each row face outwards, protecting the flanks of their fellow brothers and sisters. If they maintain their discipline, the enemy would be hard pressed to break through their lines.
As the Lycan forces wait patiently in their formation, the enemy force is growing restless. To them, this battle is a forgone conclusion. Their victory is assumedly assured. As the minutes tick by, the impatient enemy commander eventually gives the command to attack. The battle has started.
Alexis stays in the middle of the formation; he will dart forward when he is needed. His troops are situated at the foot of the hill they had crossed earlier. The ground they stand on is rocky and offers a solid foothold in the rain.
The first wave of attackers consists of roughly 40 soldiers and 50 peasants. The civilians took the lead of the charge, rushing towards the Lycans with dread on their faces. As they draw closer, Alexis' men lock their shields and brace themselves for the mass of bodies. Spears bristle over the wall of death, drawing forth additional fear.
As the two sides meet, blood splatters on the interlocked shields. Screams of pain and terror cry out, melding with the energetic shouts of Alexis' soldiers. Bodies fall to the ground and subsequently trip up their comrades. Some of the men are sliding in the mud, toppling over more people as they fall over.
Spears stab forward and retract methodically, piercing through flesh and bone with ease. As the dead and wounded stack up, the peasants falter. They have made no progress against the wall.
When another 10 or so fall to the Lycanian iron, the peasants break. They scatter fearfully to the side and fall back towards their base camp.
Left alone, the 40 enemy soldiers push forward with contempt at the cowardly levies. Though they approach with more caution, for they have seen what the spears did to the peasants, they are not too concerned about it. Their ego is only matched by their foolishness.
-
-Jack Anstrada, 23 Years Old-
Jack stands in the field with the troops he withheld from the battle to protect his command center. He watches the peasants break, then flee. He is absolutely furious and lashes out as his aide who is standing next to him.
"Son of a bitch!" Jack screams as he hits his aide with the scabbard of his sword. "Why are they running?! Fucking worthless!"
Spittle flies from his mouth but he doesn't notice, anger has consumed him. After a while, he composes himself just enough to continue watching the battle.
After the peasants shamefully retreated, only the soldiers his father had hired remain active on the field. There is roughly 40 of them.
Jack is the firstborn son of Baronet Anstrada. He was set to inherit his father's title and land on his death. He had volunteered to lead this battle, wanting to win over his future council.
He shakes his head and focuses forward once again. He is just in time to watch the 40 soldiers get destroyed by the Lycan soldiers.
Jack stands there dumbstruck. He isn't exactly sure how this had happened. The Lycan Dukedom was supposed to be fielding an ill-trained army. What he is witnessing now is nothing like he was expecting.
As he begins panicking, wondering what to do next, he doesn't notice his aide slowly drawing his blade.
The peasants are obviously not going to fight any longer and their numbers were decimated anyways. After years of abuse and seeing this slaughter, the aide's mind snaps. He wants to take revenge on his abusive superior and try to salvage his own life in the process.
Jack hears slow footsteps approaching him from behind, so he turns towards the sound in a fury.
"Send the peasants back out! I'll whip any who refuse and have their wives and children raped in fro-!" Jack screams in a fury before he is abruptly silenced.
Just before everything turned to black, Jack's vision is wildly spinning. And for the faintest of a moment, he sees what looked like his now headless body collapsing to the floor in a spray of blood.
-
-Alexis Lycan, 18 Years Old-
Alexis watches his forces destroy any enemy who approached them. He is filled with pride at the sight. As he is preparing to give the order to push forward, he notices a commotion in the enemy camp.
It looks like the peasants have turned on the Baronet and are hacking apart the remaining 10 soldiers who stayed behind in the camp. It is a vicious and desperate fight. Eventually, the soldiers are all slain. There were just too many civilians all gunning for their lives.
As he is pondering what to do next, a few men approach Alexis from across the field with a white flagged raised. As they draw closer, Alexis could vaguely make out a decapitated head set upon a spear.
He had to guess it was the enemy commander.
The battle is won.