Snippet #2817480

When bodies slammed against shields with audible thunks, immediately followed by the sickening crunches of swords impaling flesh, and then the now dying viking warriors shoved back, there was yet another wave, slamming against the shields to meet their death, and then shoved back, slowly forming a ring of bodies that began to pile up, one after another as viking warriors fell against Argosian shields, and Argosian swords. The shield wall did not yield, for a time as the warriors slammed against them, only to be killed. The Decanus was there, in the fight, bracing against the weight of muscle, and flesh only to drive his sword into the belly of his enemy. This however could not go on forever. The never-ending sea of torches, pitchforks, and arrows were dauntless, but the Praetorians held fast, as the bodies around them piled up.

Seconds dragged on to minutes, minutes dragged on to almost thirty before the first Praetorian soldier began to waver, his muscles were taxed, and the constant onslaught of bodies against his impermeable shield drew upon his muscles, as he struggled to maintain his composure. He jabbed his blade, impaling yet another savage warrior and sending him to his death, with all of his reserves, he shoved the barbarian back, into the piling mound of his brothers only for a flaming arrow to sail past him, and into the tent. The deafening clatter of pig iron on nanosteel echoed through Iskjerne Bay as the arrows struck shields, bouncing harmlessly into the ground, but with the tent behind them ablaze, the Praetorians were now no longer defending an objective, they were going to take as many of these savages as they could before they succumbed to greater number.

The Praetorian formation broke, and the individual Praetorians moved into the savage swarm, driving their blade into as many as they could before they were overtaken, each Praetorian fought valiantly, deflecting incoming blows with his large shield, and driving his blood coated blade deep into the belly of the nearest ash covered savage, it was a battle that would earn them titles on the highest Argosian honors once the legion learned of the betrayals here.

The Decanus too fought bravely, feeling what felt like someone punching his chest as an arrow seared into his armor, striking it with an audible 'tink' and a small shower of sparks, the Arrow stuck harmlessly into the ground as the Decanus held his blade firmly, staring directly into the eyes of Ubbe Ragnarsson as he drove his gladius into the throat of a nearby warrior, and immediately deflecting another axe blow with his shield, before impaling yet another, and kicking him off his glistening sword.

There was a brief lull as the Decanus stared with hatred at Ubbe, the Decanus spoke in carefully chosen Argosian words.

"Alea iacta est."

Immediately after uttering those words, the Decanus fell into his sword, which impaled him, and killed himself instantly, denying Ubbe and his savages the satisfaction of killing him, one last act of defiance secure in the knowledge that the Argosian legion would avenge their deaths, and with his last act of defiance, he left the flaming camp to the pillaging vikings, until the powder stores inside the tent blew, and a massive explosion engulfed all who were nearby, sending splinters of wood, iron, and nanosteel flying in all directions, and a plume of flame began to mushroom into the sky with the acrid smell of gunpowder.

nearly a hundred savages lay dead, or dying in a ring around the formation of Argosian Praetorians, and dozens lie dead around each individual Praetorian, whose purple robes were covered in the blood of their enemies. Fueled by light woods, and gunpowder, the blaze burned hot, intensely so, the orange glow reflecting off of blood coated blades.