So, after playing way too much For Honor (For all my Canadian readers, I know it's spelled wrong, I feel your pain on that one…) I decided to dip my toe into the waters of writing stories on the subject and reading what other people had put out. It's a small pool of entries so far, but if there's one thing I've noticed so far it's the fact that there seems to be something missing: the brutal battle and war stories. So, here we are, I give you a war story of my own creation.

oxoxoxo

The Last Stand

Godric Ambrose, formerly known as Godric the Unbreakable of the Blackstone Legion rested his head in his hands as he looked over a map of the fortress he and his men occupied. Fort Sigrun was a large fortress near the border between Valkenheim and Ashfield. An old fortress from the first time the Knights of Ashfield's Iron Legion led a campaign against the Vikings of Valkenheim. It was a poor decision, as the vikings had quickly retaken their lost land and Sigrun with it, named after the valkyrie who had taken the fortress for the vikings. The fortress had then served as an outpost and frontline base of the Vikings against any knight invasions. However, due to the difficulty any invading army would face assaulting fort Sigrun, invaders tended to avoid it at any cost. The knights who had built the fortress had built it well, and Godric could see why no one wanted to assault it. Fort Sigrun was built partway up a mountain, the bowels of the fortress literally carved into the mountain itself. Any who would brave a climb up the mountain would soon find themselves under a hail of arrows from the thick and high walls that surrounded the fort, and would find hauling any ram up the mountain a difficult task, given the weight of the ram and the incline of the road up the mountain. Though by no means a sheer cliff, the mountain was still much more difficult to ascend than any road would be to traverse. The fort's construction was meant to allow only a small company of soldiers to be needed to man it during a battle, a task made much easier by the location and high walls of the fortress, as well as the underground rivers that supplied those inside with a supply of water. However, when food would inevitably run low and those inside the base were outnumbered five to one, one could not help but worry.

Godric's predicament was made even worse when one considered his past and that of his men. During the Blackstone Legion's invasion of Valkenheim, Godric had been one of their lawbringers, proudly flying the orange and black banner of the Legion and wielding his halberd in service to his warlord. However, Valkenheim's invasion would change his outlook on the Legion and its master. Apollyon… that name sent chills down Godric's spine when he thought of it. She had commanded the Legion to commit unspeakable acts against the vikings, both soldiers and Valkenheim's citizenry. Thousands were put to the sword in their invasion. Any who stood against Apollyon were killed or, should they prove themselves worthy enough, conscripted. The Blackstone Legion's warlord held a near hypnotic sway over those in her service, to the extent that those who once opposed her would gladly turn on their former people and join her in her insane quest. After watching her put an entire village to the sword and burn down their great hall and grain storage, Godric had summoned his troops and given them a choice. Any who wanted to stay with the Legion were welcome to do so, but all those who wished to remain under his command would leave with him that night. If this was what Apollyon desired, he would have no part of it. To his surprise, his entire unit had followed him in his desertion.

If they believed this was the end of their problems, they were certainly in for a surprise. The Blackstone deserters had managed to avoid their former comrades for quite some time, but before long, they found another problem. Or rather, another problem found them. The rising Warborn clan had soon found the remnants of his troops, those who hadn't been killed or died from starvation that is. Rather than risk what men he had left in combat with the vikings, Godric had surrendered on the condition that the vikings allow his men to go free. He fully expected to be executed on the spot for his actions in the war, he was very surprised when he was instead brought, along with all his men, to the court of a Warborn warlord, Magnus the Bear Eater. He said he was impressed with both Godric's skill in battle, a skill that had been documented during the war, as well as his willingness to die for his men. Because of this, Magnus had brought Godric and his men under his protection. And in the near constant battles in Valkenheim, Godric and his men often had to work for that protection. More than once an angry rival clan would become enraged with the fact that the Warborn were harbouring former Blackstone Legionnaires and would attack. The first time this had happened, Godric and his men had willingly offered to drive back the attackers, a gesture that only garnered them more respect from Magnus and his men. In that battle and all that would follow, Magnus and Godric had fought side by side and back to back, protecting one another with shield and plate, and slaying their enemies with sword and poleaxe alike.

Eventually, the two had joined forces, Magnus officially recognizing Godric and his soldiers as allies of the Warborn Clan. With their status as allies official, Godric and his men, his forces now including several vikings who had joined him out of respect for his skill in battle, had decided to take a new name, with Blackstone Deserters not leaving quite as much of an impact on the mind as, perhaps, The Warborn Union. With their new title and a home at the old Fort Sigrun, Godric, Magnus and their collective men had led land based raids against Apollyon's Blackstones. Using a combination of Blackstone tactics and viking ones, it had taken the Legion some time to realize that the black and purple garbed soldiers raiding their outposts were once their own. However, once they realized that, it hadn't taken them long to strike back.

And strike back they did. Within weeks, the Blackstone Legion army was on the march, and every day, Union scouts reported that they were growing closer. Obviously, Magnus and Godric had led a counterattack, but were quickly repelled due to the sheer size of the Blackstone force. The enemy commander, Aryen Diamond had brought with him a force of nearly ten thousand strong. Compared to the Union's two thousand men and women, that was hardly a fair fight. Fort Sigrun would even the odds, but with the Blackstone Legion arriving in less than a week to lay siege, that was hardly enough time to gather sufficient food to wait it out until reinforcements would arrive. The only respite was that only one of the Blackstone Legion's many armies would be going after them, the rest occupied with their war against the samurai of the Myre. They had struck deep into Ashfield, ensuring that most of Apollyon's resources were tied up in dealing with them.

Even still, the Blackstone Legion's force was massive when compared to Godric and Magnus' own. Looking over the map of Fort Sigrun, Godric could only sigh in annoyance.

"One of these days, you're going to make a new suit of armour out of that map." Godric looked up from the map to see Magnus had entered the room and was now leaning on the door frame. The viking warlord was dressed in his full armour of light chainmail and leather lined with bear furs. His armour, like every member of the Union was coloured black and purple, the two colours selected to be on the Union's banner. His mighty shield was slung over his back and his ancient blade was sheathed at his hip. "I can only assume so since you've been looking at it for so long."

Godric sighed and stood up from the table, walking over to his brother in arms. "If you think I can make an improvement to my armour with that, I would be rather interested in how you propose I do so." The lawbringer said, rubbing his weary eyes with one hand. "We'll need all we can get to win this battle."

The warlord rolled his eyes. "Ah come on, that's not the same knight who rode into battle and lopped a man's head off with his halberd to save my ass."

"We had the high ground in that battle." The lawbringer replied. "And they didn't outnumber us ten to one."

"Five to one." Magnus corrected. "The Blackstones aren't that far ahead of us, and they still die if you hit them hard enough."

"They still have more men to hit us with." Godric said, turning around to walk back to his table. "And I know their strategy. They'll bring a giant ram, batter down the gates and then slaughter us all. Not sure how many we can take down before they overwhelm us."

"We've been through a lot of battles, Godric." Magnus said, putting a hand on the knight's shoulder as he looked over the map of the fortress. "And if we fall in battle, then I'll gladly die fighting with you, my brother in arms, both here and in Valhalla."

Godric rose from the map and looked to the man who had just called him a brother. Would one look at the two, they wouldn't have believed that the two would get along at all, let alone be considered brothers in arms. The lawbringer's face was one of a classically handsome man with defined cheekbones and a well trimmed beard and moustache of black hair framing his mouth. His black hair was short and well combed, reaching just above his green eyes. He was clean and well kempt, the exact opposite to Magnus. The warlord was slightly shorter in height, but in muscle mass, the warlord could easily be called massive. He was the classical viking man, and looking at his lengthy, braided brown beard that covered nearly all his face, that rang true. His brown hair was tied back out of his face in a braid that reached his mid back, revealing his blue eyes to the world. The two men were as different in appearance as night and day, but once the two of them wore the same purple and black garb and bled side by side, appearances and differences they may have had in beliefs were discarded entirely. Godric looked his brother in arms in the eye. "Well, I don't know if we'll land in Valhalla, God's Heaven or the Hell of the Devil, but I'd rather not die on this day. Especially not to the Blackstones."

Magnus smirked and clapped his brother in arms on the shoulder. "I was hoping you would say that," He said, chuckling. "That's why I have an idea. Come on, grab your armour and halberd and meet me in the courtyard." He clapped Godric on the shoulder thrice and turned to face the door. "I think you're gonna like this one." He said, walking out the door.

Godric watched him exit, confused, yet intrigued. The Warlord had come up with several strategies in the heat of battle that, while usually planned in the traditional viking brutality, were generally just as successful as those he came up with at the strategy table. The one that stuck out the most in his mind was when Blackstones were driving their forces back off a hillside, the only thing holding them back being a shield wall. The Blackstone forces made one last charge, but Magnus had pulled his forces back in the center of his line, allowing the enemy to charge into what turned into an instant improvised ambush as Union forces now surrounded the enemy. The heat of the moment seemed to invigorate Magnus, the warlord being an inspiration to his men on the field and a leader from the front, but also a much more cunning man than one might expect should they look at him. The lawbringer was still slightly confused as he began to don his armour. After all, Magnus might have been a brilliant man in the face of an enemy army, but would his strategies stand up to that standard?

Placing his helm upon his head, Godric left the war room and made his way through the castle to the courtyard, halberd in hand. There was only one way to find out. He soon entered the courtyard to find Magnus waiting for him. All around them, both knights and vikings ran about, preparing the fortress for the incoming siege. The gate was being reinforced and barred, arrows and bolts for crossbows were being gathered, swords were being sharpened and armour mended, as the soldiers prepared for what was likely to be their final stand. And yet Magnus stood in the center of it all as though it were just another day. "So," Godric said, approaching the warlord. "What's this plan of yours?"

Magnus gestured further into the fortress and beckoned for Godric to follow, the knight quickly falling into step behind the viking as they made their way into the fortress' interior. "You're not going to like it. It's a bit of a long shot, but at this point, I think we're desperate enough for long shot ideas." The warlord said.

"That's not much of an answer." Godric replied. "Just what are you thinking? And didn't you tell me I would like this one?"

Godric should have had a bad feeling when Magnus first said he had a plan, but only really realized just how bad when Magnus led him to the door to the dungeon. "I changed my mind."

"I hate this already, but we're desperate." The lawbringer muttered, following his viking companion down into the dungeon. "What's your plan?"

The dim light of torches illuminated the interior of the dungeons, several faces staring back at the warlord and Lawbringer from within barred cells as they passed by, the light of the flames reflecting off their armour. Some looked on in terror, believing they would be executed, others with anger at the ones who imprisoned them, still others with confusion as to what they were doing, while one pair merely watched, curious and calculating. The murmurs followed them all the way into the depths of the dungeon, questions, threats and some they couldn't make out. Not one sounded pleasant.

Godric couldn't help but wonder what Magnus had planned, as the trip down to the dungeons had been eerily silent. However, he had a feeling the warlord was going to explain himself soon. "Alright, listen up!" The warlord declared. Near silence soon followed, aside from the quickly fading echoes of the viking's voice. "I'm sure you recognize me, and I'm sure you're not exactly pleased to see me." He began. "But, what I'm about to say might just change that. After all, it's not every day that your jailor hands you the key to your freedom."

Magnus' words caused a new wave of murmurs to spread through the prisoners. Were they serious? Were they free? Would they just be executed? What would be the cost?

Seemingly responding to their hushed questions, Magnus continued. "You might have heard a few whispers of an incoming invasion. You're probably wondering if these rumours are true, if this base is going to fall, and just what we intend to do about it." The warlord said, spreading his arms wide and gesturing all about. "That, prisoners, is where you come in. Here's the deal: you fight for us, and you get your freedom. No imprisonment, no bars and no pursuit, I swear this on my honour as warlord of the Warborn Legion."

The whispers only grew more frequent as the offer was given. Could he be telling the truth? Who would they be fighting? Would they even survive the battle?

"I know what some of you are thinking," The warlord declared. "You're wondering if I mean what I say, if I really intend to release you in exchange for your service. Well, some of you are vikings yourselves. You know what our oaths are worth. You know I will keep my word once the battle ends. For the rest of you, knights, samurai, any others who doubt my word, let me ask you this. How would you rather die? Would you rather sit rotting in your cell and await a stray shot from the Blackstone Legion's trebuchet, or would you instead rather take up arms and fight those bastards off? I say we fight! Take up your arms and join me, walk out of this cell with your heads held high and your weapons raised! Together, we will show the Legion that there are those who can and will stand against them! Now, who will join me?"

The whispers began anew, spreading like wildfire across the dungeons as many debated whether or not it was worth the risk to join the Warborn Legion in what might be their last battle. Many felt no love for the black and orange garbed knights who had wronged many in their campaigns. Some who had been imprisoned had been hurt in the past by the Legion, others had once stood in their path, while others still were demanded by their warrior codes to fight against what they saw as injustice. However, others still were not ready to stand on the side of those who had them imprisoned, and Godric knew he had found one when he heard the slow, deliberate clapping in response to Magnus' speech. "Bold words, for a barbarian on his last legs." Came a smooth voice from within one of the cells. Godric and Magnus turned to look at the man who had spoken out, finding a man with a shaved head and cruel green eyes, staring at them from behind the bars of his cell and a face full of stubble. His large, muscled frame may have seen better days, but it showed that he had been a warrior once upon a time, likely one of the Blackstone Legion's conquerors. "But how many here would believe this nonsense? While you may spout off your barbarous oaths like they might actually have meaning, I for one know you stand alone against the tides. The Blackstone Legion draws closer every day, they outnumber you by a margin I do not care to guess, and you know you have no chance. The wolves will devour you barbarians. All we need to do is sit and wait for them to arrive."

"He's right!" Another voice called out, this one sounding much angrier than the first. Godric turned to see it was a much smaller man who had spoken. He was thin, but lean, with his body consisting of tightened cords of muscle. His build in combination with his Asian features, sallow skin and deep black hair tied back into a crude topknot, marked him as one of the samurai. "How long have we rotted away in your dungeons? Why should we fight for you? For all we know, the Blackstones will set us free once they have killed you and your men!"

More whispers began to spread, these ones being those of discontent. Who could really trust the ones who had thrown them in the dungeon? Why would they fight against those who had more recently harmed them?

Godric looked to Magnus. The Viking had been silent since he finished his speech and it looked like he might be getting rather annoyed at the ones who questioned him. Knowing the warlord's pride, he might end up executing the knight who had spoken out. The lawbringer looked about the dungeon to see the results of the warlord's speech. To his surprise, the vikings were still collecting themselves, but anyone else was looking apprehensive. He would need a plan before Magnus executed one of them just to prove he wasn't joking. Tensions were running high, and the combination of the inbound army and slander from the prisoners wasn't helping.

Gritting his teeth, Godric thrice slammed the butt of his halberd into the stone floor of the dungeon, gaining the attention of the room. Casting his armoured head around the room, he looked at all the stares he was getting. The vikings were curious to see what this knight who had come down with the warlord had to say, the samurai had seemingly lost interest in him, and the Blackstones looked annoyed. The lawbringer tore the helmet from his head and cast it to the floor, the close helm clattering away as he looked each prisoner in the eye one by one. At last, his gaze fell upon the Blackstone conqueror. "Do you know what kind of creature simply waits for its own death?" Godric asked, stepping closer to the conqueror, hands tightening on his halberd. "Sheep." He answered, pacing before the cell. "I'm sure some of you recognize me." He continued. "Among the Blackstone Legion, I was somewhat infamous. Godric the Unbreakable they called me. I recognize a few of you. Some of you even served under me. So tell me, how many helpless sheep have you all slaughtered? I'll bet each one of you has quite the body count. Even if you don't, you can bet the soldiers approaching do. Do you really think Apollyon won't see the lot of you as just more gutless sheep to be slaughtered? You just sat and waited for her to find you after you were captured." Godric stepped up to the bars and glared right into the eyes of the conqueror. "Can you really call yourself a wolf now that you've been caged?"

The conqueror, to his credit, did not break, even as the armoured knight stared him down. He looked right back into Godric's eyes, the prisoner's dark brown meeting his captor's deep green. "I do still call myself a wolf." He hissed. "And a true wolf would never go against the pack's alpha."

"Then maybe it's time you found a new pack." The lawbringer retorted. With an armoured hand, he shoved the conqueror away from the bars, turning around before he could know if he hit the floor. "What about the rest of you?" He announced, turning to the other prisoners. "How many of you are going to stand up to the oncoming wolfpack? I can see many vikings ready to join the fight, and I imagine a great many more of you are as sick of the Blackstones as we are."

"And just why would we help you?" The same samurai demanded, gripping the bars until his knuckles turned white. "Whether we join you or not, the Blackstone Legion will slaughter us. If we're going to die, give me one good reason I should die tired!"

"I'd call it dying with some self respect." Magnus said, piping up for the first time since Godric spoke. "I know you're not the biggest of men, but you can still man up and defend yourself from the Blackstones, I'm sure."

"You dishonour us by imprisoning us," The samurai spat. "And now you insult me further. Give me one good reason I shouldn't just leave you to the Blackstone Legion and await my death with some dignity!"

"Well, if you're going to sit and wait for the Blackstone headsman, maybe there are some of your men who have a spine. Let them fight while you wait for death." The warlord countered.

"How dare you-"

"Takumi, enough." A new voice said. Godric and Magnus stared into the cell to see who had spoken. To their shock, the speaker was a woman. Another samurai, this one taller, with a full head of pitch black hair that reached just down past her neck. Her almond eyes seemed to hold a calm yet fierce wisdom, and by the look of her musculature, she was a born warrior, with arms that looked perfect for wielding a blade. "I would speak to them, if you do not mind."

"Lady Yuki, I-"

"That is enough." The samurai woman, Yuki said, pushing past her brash companion. "You know the Blackstone Legion?" She asked.

Magnus puffed out his chest. "I've had a few encounters with them, killed a good amount."

"I was speaking to your companion." Yuki said, pointing at Godric.

"Oh…" The warlord muttered.

The samurai paid him no mind further and looked to the knight, expectantly. Godric gave a grim nod. "Yes. I was once one of them."

"I see." She replied, her voice smooth yet simple. "And this has changed? Why is that?"

Godric closed his eyes and cast his mind back to everything he had seen as a Blackstone captain. The battles, the screams, the smell of smoke and the heat of the flames as they left charred villages in their trail. "With everything the Legion has done, I could no longer remain."

Yuki nodded once. "And so you now fight against them?" She asked.

"Someone has to challenge their injustice." The lawbringer responded.

The samurai woman closed her eyes and pondered her next words carefully. "If the whispers I have heard are to be believed, my people now fight against the Legion as well." She said softly. "The armies of the Dawn Empire now march into Ashfield to bring war to the Blackstones. I will likely never join this war, as I sit in my cell, far from the battle, imprisoned by another enemy of the Empire. I will more than likely never leave this fortress. However," She said, stepping up to the bars and gripping them tight in her grasp. "If I am going to die, you can be sure I will take as many Blackstone soldiers with me as I can. The vikings may have invaded the Myre, but my people are at war with the Legion. They are our enemy, and as you are their enemy, the enemy of my enemy is my friend." She reached one hand through the bars of her cell, her smooth features as hard as stone. "I will fight alongside you, as will any of my soldiers who wish to follow me to my death."

"Lady Yuki," Takumi interjected. "Are you sure this is wise? These mongrels defeated and imprisoned us! How can we fight alongside them?"

Yuki turned from the bars to face her companion. "Takumi, we infiltrated Valkenheim to avenge the vikings' raid on our people. However, not once did we consider why they would raid our lands in such a force as they did. Did you not wonder why they did this, Takumi?" When the other samurai gave no answer, Yuki continued. "It was the Blackstone Legion. Years ago, they invaded Valkenheim, doing great damage to the land and burning much of their food. To survive, the vikings turned to our bounty, and should the tales I have been told be believed, in our people's darkest hour, the Blackstone Legion struck at us. The Dawn Empire seeks retribution against the Blackstone Legion, and they seek to take it by blood. If I am going to die in this fortress, then I want to pay my own share."

Takumi looked like he wanted to respond, but no words would come to him. Magnus reached through the bars and placed a hand on the man's shoulder. "You know she's right, boy." The warlord said. "Samurai are giving the Blackstones hell in their own territory, maybe it's time you helped them out. The longer we hold that Blackstone army here, the longer they're not defending against the samurai army."

Yuki nodded at Magnus' words and once again offered Godric her hand. "I make my offer once more, Godric the Unbreakable. I will join you in this fight, as will any men able and willing to follow me. Do you accept my offer?"

Godric nodded and took her hand, taking note of the firm grasp she had when she shook back. "Welcome to the Warborn Union."

Yuki nodded back. "It is my honour to join you."

Magnus looked to Takumi. "What about you, boy? Feel like joining your queen?"

"She isn't my queen, she is my daimyo!" Takumi spat. "And if she wishes to join in this suicidal fight, then I cannot allow her to be among you barbarians and brutes on her own. I will join her, but not you."

Magnus looked to Godric and pulled the keys to the samurai cell from his belt. "I think that's the best we're getting out of these ones. Let's let them and the vikings out." He looked across the dungeon to the cell where the conqueror and his men stewed in their anger. "As for you lot, the offer is still open if you change your mind. Until you do, I suggest you get comfortable, sheep."

With a turn of a key, the viking and samurai prisoners were set free, a small amount of knight prisoners following behind them. Godric's spirit rose for a fraction of a second as he watched a small amount of now former Blackstone soldiers exit the cell, heads held high as they followed Magnus up and out of the dungeon. He didn't know whether they were just looking for any possible freedom or whether they were just as sick of the actions of the Blackstone Legion as he was, but it mattered little to him. Picking his helmet off of the floor, the lawbringer replaced it on his head as he brought up the rear of the line, more than happy to leave the dungeon behind with a troop of new soldiers.

The first stop after leaving the dungeons was, of course, the armoury. The new soldiers needed to reclaim their equipment after all, and what was still intact was locked in the Union's armoury. Magnus pushed open the doors to the armoury and led the new soldiers inside where each one went about collecting their weapons and armour, inspecting each piece to ensure its quality and state. Magnus walked past many soldiers as they collected their weapons, one of them being Yuki who carried a katana. "That's quite the sword." He commented. "Soul of the samurai, right?"

"Yes." Yuki replied, temporarily unsheathing the blade before immediately sheathing it and handing it to Takumi as he passed by her. "Takumi uses it well."

Magnus was somewhat confused as all of Yuki's soldiers seemed to be collecting their own weapons, but she herself was still unarmed. "Where's your weapon?" He wondered aloud. "You're clearly a warrior, but I've seen your soldiers take several of the katanas we've got here and none of them are paying you any mind. Do you not have one of your own?"

"Not like they do." Yuki answered. "My weapon is not a common katana."

"A Naginata then?" Magnus asked, looking about the armoury. "I'm sure we have a few of those in here somewhere."

"Lady Yuki, I found your blade." Takumi said. Magnus could only look in awe as the samurai took up her blade, a massive nodachi. She unsheathed the blade and looked along the cutting edge. Takumi quickly took notice of Magnus' expression. "I don't know if your women fight, but Lady Yuki is a kensei, a sword saint. She leads from the front in battle as our lady."

"Viking women can fight, I'm just surprised at the size of that blade. How can you keep control of it?" Magnus wondered aloud.

"It takes much practice." Yuki said, sheathing her blade once again. "The nodachi was once believed to be too long of a blade to use, but the kensei have mastered its use over countless years. While it is no easy weapon to wield, it is still an effective tool on the field of battle."

"I'm assuming you can use it." Godric said as he approached the group. "It will certainly be interesting to fight alongside a samurai in battle."

"As will it be to fight alongside a knight and viking." Yuki replied, giving a small smile to Godric. It seemed like a friendly expression, but a cursory glance into the eyes of the kensei would reveal the truth. She knew this would be her last stand. She knew she would die fighting side by side with warriors her people saw as enemies, and her lieutenant seemed to still see them as the enemy, even as the blackstone Legion stared them right in the eye. As they stood now, outnumbered, their backs to the wall, and with morale low, they were sure to fall. The only advantage they had was the fortress, but the second the gate came down, they were doomed. The Union and their new allies had a matter of mere days to prepare their defences and raise morale. Otherwise they would be wiped out as soon as the Blackstones arrived.