Screams carried across the blood-streaked muddy fields of Agincourt; the day was just beginning, and the action was at its height.
Edward of York looked at his disillusioned men in dismay, their bashful faces shadowed and blacked. Men knelt in the mud praying, begging and sometimes crying a way out of this death-trap. Edward was not going to lie. "
Men the battle ahead is hard and brutal, but steel yourselves! We do what must be done for our Lord and his God-given right! Follow me towards heaven or hell. The death knell screams at them; you see them shaking in fear!? They know their absolution is at hand! It is our duty as men of honor and chivalry to drag them to God for judgement of their sins!" Fine, I guess he did lie. Only one agenda was crossing Edward's mind. Gold, riches, and power. All of which were lying across this God-forsaken valley; there be the French nobles worth their weight in gold.
Edward donned his cylindrical helmet; closing its visor. His squire offered his weapons, he nodded at the squire and signalling the advance to him. The squire's horn echoed through the now deathly silent valley.
The cavalry charge began. Hundreds of horses galloped in unison, shaking the ground and producing a thunderous cacophony. Battle-cries sounded, bolstering morale and creating a fearsome aura about the charging heavy cavalry. The French lines rushed and rippled as hundreds of crossbow-men ran in front of the men-at-arms. Within moments what seemed like thousands of bolts struck the horsemen.
Oblivious to all behind him, Edward fueled by his greed of the enemies' wealth; thundered ahead with his remaining force. In one agile cleave he lobbed off a Genoesian head as it flew through the air. Chuckling in blood-lust Edward trampled terrified crossbow-men whilst singing his sword on the gore on his foes.
Then the infantry counter-charged. The charge crumpled and staggered, the men and horses exhausted were beset from all sides by fierce pikes and grim faces. Edwards' soldiers withered and died in a slaughter. Within moments Edward was face-first into the dirt crushed by his horse's death throes. His vision faded and con-caved into redness and deteriorated to blackness.
When Edward came to he found himself in an abandoned village. One which he has never seen before. Critically wounded in the upper-right-breast Edward staggered into the nearest desolate house; hoping to find some form of life. He fell unconscious from the pain, in-between consciousness and unconsciousness he saw a fantastically large mansion filled with strange persons of much power.
Hours later, when Edward regained consciousness his arm was stiff and his wound was festering, in desperation of his situation Edward followed his fever induced hallucination all-by crawling up the hill. When Edward lay his eyes upon the strange people atop he collapsed into unconscious his armor clanking loudly and his weapons being discarded.
Location: In-front of the mansion.
Nearby people: Roilvn and Niz.
Current emotions: Unconscious.
"Cowards die many times before their deaths; the valiant never taste of death but once."
Edward of York
