The Battle of Northern Kandarin: The Hunt for a Sidewalk

[Thorlah]

The Initial Skirmish

The First Zarosian Division, chalk-full of eager troops, marched to the east, past the sticks that marked the "Do Not pass" zone between their home fields of the World Gate, and Northern Kandarin, a fabled causeway to the legendary 'unknowns' of the immediate north, the Fremenniks further afield in the north, the rest of civilization to the east and south.
Upon confirmation from the initial scouting forces, the men and women, it was hard to tell them not to march forth.

As they came to the first heading, a large wooden wall greeted the army.

"You have GOT TO BE KIDDING!" First Lieutenant Erksine said, muffling his yell by covering his mouth with his knapsack.

At the front were the incredible Silent Riders. Contrary to their name, they did and do speak, but rather the title refers to their skill in battle, moving as if they were the air itself, unobtrusive, and ignored until it is too late.

Their unit commander, Ventir Leifson, stood tall on his horse, and wore his battle-scarred armour with humility. It was his sincerest hope to lead the riders to his ancestors from Neitiznot itself, and to visit their ancestral homes, as a reminder of why they fight so strongly.

"Riders, I ask you today to whisper a quiet prayer, for those that came before us. For those poor souls left unburied in the Sixth Age, to those that gave their lives with no reward or renown. To them, we will dedicate our victory. To our allies that have lost their lives to struggle, pain, depression and disease, we foreswear our fights in your respect and honour!"

"Hear hear!" the forces cheered.

"Men, I will lead us in this fight." Ventir Leifson said calmly.

With courage, the Silent Riders strode out into the front line, drawing the attention of the wild giants.

"RARGH! Tiny mismade giants will say why they have come to our field!"

Ventir rode slowly forward, and took his helm off to speak with them.

"I am Ventir Leifson, leader of these men. Join our cause fair giants, and we will leave this land in peace."

The giants laughed.

"Foolish mismade giant! These are ours! You leave or we squash you like the others!"

Ventir's brow jumped, possibly hoping his ancestors were said 'mismade giants'.

"When did they come though?"

"We have no reason to answer you!"

With a hefty swing, the giant's leader, Graah, brought what appeared to be a former catapult component down on to Ventir Leifson's head.

The sound of his demise rang throughout the land, and drew the eyes of all in the region.

I...I will not detail the exact process of Ventir Leifson's death, but know that it disgusts all that saw it, and will require many years of counseling to ever truly process.

Graah froze, and muttered about seeing the darkness.

What all there saw next was what could only be called 'karmic'.

All the carnage of Ventir's death, was returned upon Graah, and brought his dead form to the ground. The giants reeled in horror, and it left First Division First General to now become the leader of the troops.

Now General Gordon Blake, knew they would have to be swift.

"Silent Riders! Take to the giants our pain and allow them to share in our fates! Rest of the army, proceed with the plan!"

All the while, my fellow Riders and I rode along the western border.

Our civilian leader, Neil Allenby, has a knack for strategy, which became apparent to us when he created our plans for battle.

We were to flank the giants, and if their numbers were low, we were to ride on south to West Ardougne, the fabled city (well, half of it), where many of our people came from, even partially.

Sadly, our ride southward unveiled even more giants, and they stayed close to the border, preventing us from flanking them.

Great.

Our next course was to wait for the other forces to drive down south, which blessedly they did, in no small part thanks to the Silent Riders, and their sacrifices.

The rest, was textbook.

But the stupid wall...

We gained not even half of this region, and lost Ventir and many good souls for a small piece of land.

I will admit, when we reconvened, many of us were heavily upset. Not at our leader, who could not have known of this wall, but at our heavy price we paid for such little land, it could only hold a sidewalk.

I hope this report finds you well, m'lord, and I apologize for its short nature.

...for indeed, Sir Ventir was to write this report.

May his sacrifice write us all a better fate.

Armond Lloyd, 3rd Rider