Chapter 49: Dawn of Steel and Blood
Status of Dikun Silver:
Name: Dikun Silver
Age: 21
Rank: Captain of the Silver's Warband
Reputation: Defender of Rithgar, Rising Leader, Potential Ally of House Carlin
Health: Slightly Wounded (Healing)
Equipment: Steel Longsword, Reinforced Chainmail, Leather Cloak
Mount: Brown Destrier
Morale: Steadfast
Status of Silver's Warband:
Total Soldiers: 93 (Two soldiers wounded, one in recovery)
Ranks:
63 Privates (Bronze Triangle Insignia)
20 Corporals (Crossed Triangles Insignia)
8 Sergeants (Crimson Belt and Pyramid Insignia)
2 Lieutenants (Silver-Trimmed Cloak and Silver Star Insignia: Revan, Harlon)
Supplies: Moderate (Grain, Dried Meat, Water, Basic Medical Supplies)
Weapons: Spears, Swords, Bows, and Reinforced Wooden Shields
Armor: Basic Leather and Chainmail
Morale: Unyielding
Current Location: Rithgar Village
Next Objective: Defend Rithgar from the approaching raiders.
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The First Light
The horizon bled with the faintest touch of gold as dawn crept over the fields. A chill breeze stirred the air, rustling the banners on Rithgar's walls. The village stood silent, yet within its walls, the Silver's Warband was anything but still.
Dikun Silver stood before his men, their faces hardened with the knowledge of what was to come. Each soldier clutched their weapons tightly, the bronze and silver insignias gleaming faintly. This was no longer a band of mere villagers or mercenaries — they were warriors, bound by duty.
Revan approached, his silver-trimmed cloak trailing behind him. "Captain, the scouts report movement. The enemy is less than an hour away."
Dikun's gaze did not waver. "Then we'll meet them."
Harlon, broad and imposing, stepped forward, a grim smile tugging at his lips. "The men are ready. They stand firm."
"As they should." Dikun turned to face his warband. "Men of the Silver's Warband! Today we stand not as farmers or sellswords, but as defenders of our own! They think we are weak. Let them believe it."
He paused, his voice ringing through the crisp morning air.
"But when they charge these walls, they will find no cowards — only steel!"
A roar erupted from the men, the sound of their resolve echoing across the village. The earth itself seemed to tremble beneath their cries.
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Preparation and Strategy
As the warband fell into formation, Dikun's sharp eyes scanned the surroundings. The gate was fortified with layered spikes, wooden barricades, and sandbags hastily piled in defense. Archers lined the makeshift watchtowers, their bows strung and ready.
"Revan," Dikun commanded, "position the corporals in two lines. Shields at the front, spears behind. I want a wall they can break themselves upon."
Revan nodded, swiftly relaying orders. The men moved in disciplined unity — no wasted steps, no hesitant hands. They had trained for this.
"Harlon," Dikun continued, "take your sergeants to the east flank. Stay hidden. When the time comes, strike without mercy."
"Aye, Captain." Harlon grinned, his crimson belt swaying as he moved.
With his orders given, Dikun mounted his brown destrier. The powerful horse pawed the dirt, sensing the tension in the air. From this height, Dikun surveyed his men one last time. They were ready.
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The Enemy Approaches
A distant horn sounded. From the eastern hills, dark figures emerged. The enemy marched in disorganized clusters, their weapons gleaming under the morning light. Bandits. Mercenaries. Men who thrived on chaos.
But Dikun knew better than to underestimate them. Among the rabble, he spotted a dark banner, black and unmarked. Varrin's influence was undeniable.
"They come," Revan muttered grimly.
Dikun's voice was calm, steady. "Hold your ground. Let them come to us."
The enemy advanced, their shouts growing louder. Fearless and arrogant, they believed the village to be an easy prize. They would soon learn otherwise.
"Archers," Dikun commanded, raising his hand. "Nock."
The archers readied their arrows, the twang of bowstrings filling the air.
"Draw."
The enemy crossed the first marker.
"Loose!"
A volley of arrows whistled through the sky, descending upon the charging horde. Cries of pain echoed as men fell, clutching at bloodied limbs. Yet still they came.
"Second volley!" Dikun barked.
Another rain of death struck the advancing force, thinning their ranks further. But the enemy's momentum did not break.
"Shields up!" Dikun roared. "Spears forward!"
The corporals obeyed without hesitation. Shields locked together, forming an impenetrable wall of steel. Behind them, the second line braced their spears, tips gleaming.
The enemy slammed into the formation. The clash of steel rang out, the force of the impact reverberating through the ranks. But the shield wall held.
Dikun's sword flashed as he cut down a raider who breached the line. Blood splattered across his chainmail, but he did not falter.
"Hold!" he commanded, his voice unwavering. "No man breaks formation!"
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The Flank Strikes
From the east, Harlon's voice bellowed over the chaos. "Now!"
The sergeants led their squads in a vicious charge, crashing into the exposed flank of the enemy. Caught between the shield wall and the sudden assault, the raiders faltered.
Steel met flesh. The ground ran red. Cries of pain and fury mingled in the air. But amidst the chaos, Dikun remained a beacon of resolve.
He fought with the precision of a seasoned warrior — every strike deliberate, every movement calculated. Blood dripped from his blade, but he pressed on.
The tide had turned. The enemy's resolve crumbled. Some fled, others threw down their weapons in surrender.
"Victory!" Harlon roared, raising his bloodied sword.
---
Aftermath
The field lay littered with bodies, the remnants of the battle staining the earth. The warband stood victorious, but at a cost. Several of their own lay wounded, though none beyond saving.
Dikun dismounted, his breathing heavy. He wiped the blood from his sword, his gaze scanning the weary faces of his men.
"You fought well," he said, his voice low but firm. "Today, you proved your worth. But this is only the beginning."
Revan approached, his cloak stained with dirt and blood. "Varrin will not stop. He'll see this as a challenge."
"Good," Dikun replied, his eyes burning with determination. "Let him come. We will be ready."
The Silver's Warband had claimed victory, but the road ahead remained uncertain. Dikun knew that Varrin's true forces still waited. And one day, they would come.
But when they did, the name Dikun Silver would echo across Calradia.
To Be Continued…