The day ended with the forces of the Proper-Mealers gathering their wounded and marching toward Bourgiugnonne, the grim-faced Hollandaise troops watched in frustration unable to stop their enemy's escape. The poor Veloutian militia (or at least those still left alive) lurked in the darkling forests before returning by night to the maudlin battlefield to recover their slain and wounded. For all three forces it had been a harsh and bloody day, fraught with opportunities and calamities.
In the end Fortune and Discipline had favored the Proper-Mealers and they continued on their way home. This marked a second-straight victory for the massive, clumsy but undeniably powerful Tercio formation and a further frustration for those who dreamed of placing Hanz on the throne of the Gluttonian Empire. No one doubted the valiant action of the scarcely-trained militia from Veloute, or commitment of the hard-marching troopers from Hollandaise, but there was no questioning the awesome power of the fearsome Bourgiugnonner infantry and their brilliant cavalry.
Although victorious the Proper-meal faction needed to rest their troops and recoup their strength, they stood as an island in a sea of Small-Plate cities and now knew that the full weight of the forces of Ferndalia would soon be bearing down upon them. The enemy controlled all of the cities (and fortresses) that had bridges to the west. They were well and truly isolated.
Opposed to them were the cities that yearned for Small-Plater supremacy, they were frustrated and bewildered; twice they had confronted the enemy with what seemed equal odds but Victory had proven beyond their grasp. But they found comfort in the thought that they had control of the rest of the eastern half of the country and had powerful allies on the way to lend assistance.
Both sides had reason to doubt the Boozonian protestations of neutrality and both also wondered at what action the Freedonian king would take, and when.
No comments:
Post a Comment