Julius Peirgarten made his way forward up the slopes with his group upon hearing the phrase "Spiritus Vult!" he upped his tempo, shouting out towards those in his group "Get to the trenches now! Hold them and fight! Reinforcements come soon! Your deeds here will be remembered by your families and those back home, write your family into history with their blood! Don't be afraid of death, make them fear you and show them what it means oppose the Holy City, For the Empire!" he leaped into trenches with his group, swinging wildly and parrying with his shield alongside them until the reinforcements came and swarmed the trench line. He let out a sigh of relief, checking on his group covered in blood as they were. "Our jobs are far from over. We won't always have reinforcements to save us. Let's keep moving." they watched as the ships arrived knowing full well that it was just a start. @SlyChung
He didn't believe he had achieved anything especially glorious that day. Aedarhon Jouhari had witnessed the burning of his fellow footsoldiers, and he was able to somewhat avenge them with his actions upon the flank of the Nelfin enemy, but now as the staging area was being established he found himself not in one of the great tents celebrating the victory. Instead he had found himself off towards one of the spare, lonesome fires that were strung about through the camp. With a drink in hand he reflected over what he had witnessed, his first taste of real battle, and how different it felt from the glorious stories he heard from home and Norrlan. He was proud of his actions as he performed his job with diligence. He had also made a 'friend' with an Orc that he assisted him as a distracting, penetrating force. But there surely was something he could've done whilst watching the Harhold men and some of those he had seen in the city burn and toss themselves about. However, at this time he couldn't ponder upon this, and sadly it seemed this war wouldn't be as quick as he. He was still far too naive for this.
"Spirit keep us," the d'Vaud woman chanted several times under her breath, before she lead the reinforcements to the aid of the others. She had fought confidently, brutally; she had not withheld anything as to ensure victory to the best of her ability. Her focus had been the others. She had no little consideration to her own welbeing, and cared solely in offering support to those ahead of her. She had guided, commanded the troops she led all the same. The hard work was already done for them, they simply had to force a final push to secure the front. ----------- Once the camp had settle, Eleanore scanned the local tents for faces she might recognise amidst the hectic war camp. Seeing none, the woman took to a quiet corner, after having her wounds tended to. She bowed her head, and offered prayers of thanks to the spirit for the courage he had gave, for their success, and for allowing her and the army to see another day. As she spoke, her palms clasped around an object; a token she had kept on her throughout the fight. That too had given her strength to fight, to see another day.
Alexander furrowed his brows on the field as the battle raged on, blocking strikes and keeping an eye on any openings or fellow soldiers in need of aid, before spotting one more successful elven lancer, knocking the nearest elf to the side as his blade stabbed upwards for the elves neck, raising his shield as his fellow soldier was dragged away for aid. _______________________Back at the camp Alexander finished cleaning off his shield and wandered around the camp, before walking to the side of a fellow Bloodcast knight Fredrica, bumping her uninjured arm with a shoulder before speaking. "Glad to see ya up and moving, how ya holding up? Not too bad I hope." @Septanone
