I posted this once on another forum (Asrai.Org) and it went over pretty well so I decided to see what you guys think about it. I also apologize if this is in the wrong place, spamming was never my intention. Here goes:
"I am his mailed fist, I am the unstoppable wave, I am pounding of hooves, the flame of the Dragon."
The company of Dragon Princes, the finest heavy cavalry in all Ulthuan halted their advance, in the first rank was an Elf who had just gained his spurs and was now nervously clutching the haft of his Lance. He continued his meditations as the sweat dripped down his face, "I am the the bite of a sword blade, I am a child of the flames, like a fine Sword I have passed through them and now stand ready to be wielded by the lord of battle; Khaine the Bloody Handed, may I serve him well."
The young Elf surveyed spear points of the Druchii below and added another prayer, "Lady Isha mother of our race, guard this child of yours, Lord Asuryan Father of the Asur keep my soul." He whispered softly.
The Elf turned his helmed head to view the field below the Dragon Princes position, the midday sun shone down on the dry brown grass, still flattened from the now melted winter snow and the mountain winds. It gleamed dully on the black armour of the Druchii shining on foul runes devoted to whatever monster the Druchii worshipped.
"Scared lad?" The Elf turned to face the Dragon Prince on his left
"Aye, a bit." The elf admitted.
His comrade grunted, "What's your name?"
The Elf hesitated for a moment and then replied, "Imrithis, Imrithis Brightfang."
Imrithis couldn't tell if his comrade was surprised by that revelation, well of course you can't idiot, he's wearing Dragon Armour he thought wryly to himself.
Imrithis' comrade looped his Mail covered reins around the high thick pommel of his Warsaddle and reached across to clasp the vambrace on Imrithis left arm.
"Name's Telvar." He said.
"Pleasure to meet you Telvar." Imrithis replied, not bothering to inquire as to his comrades last name, if Telvar wished to share it he would.
Imrithis' head jerked slightly as he heard a blast from the Dragon horn, two long and one short. It meant advance at canter.
Imrithis cursed softly as heard it, it meant their Drakemaster meant for them to charge down the hill. He swore again and touched the spurs to flanks of his destrier. The stallion snorted softly and began to canter down the hillside its steelshod hooves crushing the dead grass underfoot.
The destriers neighed and coughed their nostrils flared wide and their lips curled back over their teeth in anticipation of the slaughter to come. The Drakemaster signaled again and the horn blew again a long mournful sound that rang over the field.
Imrithis swore again resting the tip his Lance on the Arret attached to the right side of his Cuirass. and slammed his spurs into his destriers sides. The stallion screamed in unison with its brothers and broke into a full out gallop.
It was glorious sight, the destriers heads were down their necks extended, their nostrils crimson as foam flew out from under their red and black barding, which rustled and jumped.
Their riders were no less splendid, long white lances were held firmly in their clenched hands as the wind blew back banners and Surcoats exposing their gleaming Plate and Scale Ithilmar Armour, chased with fiery Runes and the sigils of the Lord and the sunlight reflected into eyes of the Druchii Spearelves below who screamed out the name of their foul god and braced themselves.
The Dragon Princes came on like faceless metal statues filled with only the desire to rend and destroy.
The Druchii merely tightened their ranks and screamed out their hatred all the louder.
The horses came on charging behind dully gleaming points of their riders Lances.
Impact.
With a great scream as though the world had split in half. The Dragon Princes and the Druchii slammed into one another, dozens flew through the air knocked flying by the impact, lances shattered on armour or buried themselves in exposed body parts to splinter into an thousand pieces, in places they punched through weak spots in the armour to impale more than person in obscene crimson starbursts. Horses were killed instantly but still slammed through the enemy lines, while others rode on as if they were the crest of a great wave. Their riders drew swords as their lances broke but their horses did more damage as they slammed aside dozens of Druchii with the fury and speed of their charge.
Weapons rebounded from armour or found their target eliciting a scream of raw agony that was swallowed up by the screams of horses and of the dying, the ripping sound of flesh being violated by metal and the thunderous crash that came the sound of metal on metal, curses, battlecries, sobs, gasps for breath and scream after scream after scream.
Blood flowed everywhere like some obscene crimson lake upon which islands of corpses and viscera floated.
At last the Druchii broke and like so many battles most of them were hacked down in the retreat and the vengeful Dragon Princes, their pace slowed to a walk and their horses exhausted hacked the druchii down without mercy.
At last after slitting the corpses throats to make sure they dead and recovering their comrades dead bodies they pulled back as the Reavers of Ellyria charged past singing songs of battle and into the now exposed flank of the Druchii army.
The Dragon Princes had played a key role in the battle and the children of Asuryan had gained a great victory. But for now they simply sat shaking with exhaustion on the ground saying nothing and praying silently for their fallen friends. Among those was a young Dragon Prince who would never get any older.
Imrithis Brightfang had fallen on that blood soaked field as his horse was cut out from under him, he had kicked free of the stirrups and had sent ten of the druchii screaming the afterlife before he succumbed to his wounds. He had died seeing his comrades triumph and Reavers take the druchii in the flank. He had died honorably and without cause for scorn. He had died for Ulthaun. He had died at peace. He had died a soldiers death.
