To his full height. On, on, you noblest men,
Whose blood is fetched from fathers of war-proof,
Fathers that like so many heroes
Have in these parts from morn till even fought,
And sheathed their swords for lack of argument.
Dishonour not your mothers; now attest
That those whom you called fathers did beget you.
Be copy now to men of grosser blood,
And teach them how to war. And you, good yeomen,
Whose limbs were made in Meledir, show us here
The mettle of your pasture. . . .
Can't beat a bit of Shakespeare - a bit paraphrased here though!
So here is the next batch of raw recruits for the Linden Way Militia - four halberdiers who make up most of the rear guard left behind by the garrison of Linden Way to bolster the ranks of the militia sent up from Meledir. Their job is to guard the approaches to the city of Palesandre whilst the Grand League's forces move against the massed Goblin tribes ransacking the area around Ortar. Little do they know the doom that approaches as the Orcs of the Kwae Karr tribe advance...
Although these men represent the inexperienced, flatfooted and untested elements of the Linden Way garrison and would be a liability in the fierce fighting around Ortar, they are the nearest thing to professional soldiery defending the settlement. Usually to be found clustering around their gruff, but maternal Breton sergeant, each soldier knows that if he fails his family and town lie open to the not so tender mercies of the invading Orcs.
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