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Forum Home > The Strayed > Red Coats and swords men

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Posts: 1033

In the wilds of the Forest Argent between worlds, a village burns, soldiers in red coats savage the place as officers try desperatly to restore order.

Men watch from the tree line, unhappy with there passive role, wanting to be down there to help there people.

Then a man steps forward, his face is grave, his armour battered but sturdy. He lifts his hand. Waits a heartbeat and then swings it down. The arrows wistle from bows and the men, released from there imposed inaction they sprint down the hill in silence, concerened only in the vengeance that sword, spear and axe can impose upon a musket man who has no time to load or aim....

March 31, 2013 at 10:25 AM Flag Quote & Reply

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Posts: 1033

Despite the hardships that have been dealt them the skirmishes between the Red coats and what has come to be known as the Knights Council have been indecisive.

Though the Crusaders have sprung largely from hiding and stormed the supply lines of the red coated invaders, they have hung on grimly, using shot and cannonade to devastating effect.

Leaving Sir Michael first among the Knights Council wounded unto death with a lead ball in his stomach.

However, even for the Crusaders so hard pressed there are miracles and not only has the plague that was begun with such ill effect by the red coats been stymed and turned aside, but the Hermit of the woods has managed to affect a miracle and bring back Sir Michael from dire wounding where other men thought he had already passed on to blessed state.

His return has renewed the vigour of the Knights Council's defence against the Red coats.

In a pool, near a village, where a family of crusaders lie unshriven and pecked by birds, knawed by wild animals, the eye is drawn to the bodies in the water, the head of one so crudley smashed by shot that gore has turned his head into an unquestionable commentary on death. 

He opens his eyes....

September 8, 2013 at 6:45 PM Flag Quote & Reply

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Posts: 1033

A Red coat patrol is found, half chewed and dead, there guns fired, the woods around them testamony to the shot poored out in desperation...

The foresters that find them bairly escape with there lives.

A small holding on the edge between red coat and  crusader territory where once a plague ran riot now intils fear as the young preist approaches. Reminded of his pastorial duty he has gone to give last rights.

A snap of a twig makes him turn already jumpy and the sight that greats him, staggering in hungry rapture has him hitching his robes and running as if the very gates of hell where hounding him.

He is not quick enough, but we shall see him again, I am sure of it....

September 25, 2013 at 12:15 PM Flag Quote & Reply

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