The soldier stood in line holding his spear, one of the only tools he knew how to use. He looked across the field at the charging barbaric rabble. He next looked at the tightly interlocked shields of the Unsullied. He still couldn't hear the barbarians, there were too many birds. They continuously charged and eventually, he heard their blood curdling howls and their shouts for their leader of the Wesfrenk throne. The next thing he heard was the Captain shouting orders. "Archers, Ready!" and he could feel the tension on the bowstrings behind him. The barbarians came over the last hill and he could now see their faces. Most were snarling or howling. "Loose!" yelled the captain.
Barbarians fell. Nearly every arrow hit it's target. "Fire at will until they reach 20 feet away!" the captain ordered. Frenks continued to fall. Then, they reached 20 feet away, the archers threw down their bows and drew their spears. "You know the drill men! Once they hit, draw your swords! We have work to do!" the soldier could hear faintly as his adrenaline kicked in. The Frenks hit the line and ran into the unforgiving wall of death. The first several Frenks died to spears. The Unsullied dropped them onto the ground and drew their swords.
The soldier could smell the rancid stink of the blood soaked fur the barbarian in front of him wore. The barbarian swung his axe and it got stuck on the top of the shield. The soldier finished him. Then another Frenk took that one's place. Throughout the battle, his arm grew more and more tired and his sword became more slick as he stabbed barbarian after barbarian. Eventually, the ragged band of Unsullied left over managed to break the Frenks. They reformed crescent formation and prepared for another attack.
, focus elsewhere then, begin your own Bronze Age Imperialistic campaigns! Brittania can be a nice spot, as well as the south, but working together can mean we act as a buffer for each other.
