Written for the chronicle's love of war contest on the Conqueror's Blade Discord Server, and it won second place!!
by xertris
Pour, Ram, Aim, Shoot. Again and again the arquebusiers loosed.
First, Second, and Third rank fire. Hails of lead that rarely tire.
Shields crack, bones break, round after round flying through the gate.
Caltrops, fire pots, bullets, bombs, droves of men line by line fall.
Enemy inches towards the flag. their steps trampling their bodies to slag.
Cavalry passes pike and crushes shields. Footmen falter and swordsmen yield.
Farther and farther through arrows they slay. Archers morale ebbs and decays.
Lance's piercing body and heart, a single gap, and the route will start.
The riders eyes brighten as they see, the back-line and artillery.
A few
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