Scroll Victory By Kale

Victory
By Kale
Torches are dancing in the distance. The pointed walls of the surrounding
town rise up near you ominously. Feral grunts and howls emanate from beyond
them occasionally. The sky is a pastel purple with stars puncturing the
darkness in the east. The wind blows the stalks of grass to and fro with each
gust.
A lone figure skulks from the group of fluttering torches towards the towering
walls. The torches suddenly dim as the anticipation begins to build. As the
wind dies down a solemn calm settles upon the plain. The howling and grunting
has grown more rhythmic within the confines of the walls.
Pillars of smoke spiral upward from some small fires with an unknown source.
Various painted men are seen walking in and out of the ramshackle gates, not
really paying attention to their surroundings.
The dark figure stalks back to where the torches were.
Crickets chirp loudly in their evening chorale. The wind picks up slightly
and dies down once more.
Out of the darkness there comes a whoosh- followed by a chest thumping thud.
Chaos begins to emanate from inside the walls. Terrified yelps of gibberish
are heard followed by another whoosh and thud. A lone torch reignites and a
large group gathered around some sort of siege weaponry becomes apparent. A
lantern is loaded on the weapon and sent hurtling towards the settlement,
sending sparks and flames scattering to all near it when it lands. The
painted men begin to muster near the gate, attempting to form some sort of a
defensive line, but the barrage of stones is too much for their lack of
discipline, they scatter with each impact. It is at this time the group head
deliberately to the gate.
A battle is born screaming from the darkness. The clanging of metal on metal
breaks the silence of the now dark night. Fires begin to arise up in various
places of the town, rapidly consuming everything in their path. The fierce
howls morph into weak grunts and gurgles. There are no more painted men near
the gates. Another wave pour into the town from the west this time. There
comes a dull pounding sound which leads to a crash and then stops.
The night wears on and as it does it the fighting grows more and more
sporadic. The fires have died down and small puffs of smoke come from their
smoldering coals. More and more of the Iridinians arrive and pour into the
town, though the only ones coming out are the painted savages, mostly as
corpses.
As the light of Ereal pours across the eastern sky a chant is heard from
behind the walls. It is the chorus of victory. The only fires burning now
are the piled corpses of the savages outside the walls. The soldiers have
secured the town and are now guarding the gates. There is a lone scout
dressed in black who stands on the ridge to the northeast, then disappears.
The day belongs to Iridine.