[i]The Massacre of the Horselord Clan[/i]
[b] Chief Jannum Planesrunner Horselord the Avenger (13 - 73) [/b]
[quote=Eye Thirdborn Gravewalker, former Horselord soldier and Ward of Elder Chief Goodberry Thorncrown Baldug of Baldugtagee, 73]Jannum Horserider, "The Avenger" as called by the riders, "The Child" as called by the elders, had done not but bring an end to the murderer Gultuk Bronzespear and do battle with the Bronzespear scion Redrider by the day he survived sixty turnings of the seasons, the lands of Clan Horselord had grown twofold at the expense of the Redrider horses, yet the menfolk and horses had only shrunk in number. 

Jannum let resenting froth grow from his lips at the very mention of peace-talking with the Bronzespears, they who had slayed his father and taken his corpse to strengthen their magics. One notably rage-fueled outburst involved the slashed throat of a young rider and the subsequent removal of all others from his tent. His fury had yet to tire by the time a flame was pushing its way through our encampment. It was clear to all minds nay that of the chief that the battles were not to finally conclude until the last man from either land had accepted his place among the gods.

That day was to reach us sooner than the witches could discern.[/quote]

[quote=Eye Thirdborn Gravewalker, former Horselord soldier and Ward of Elder Chief Goodberry Thorncrown Baldug of Baldugtagee, 73]The Horselord camp had been set at a valley between two great cliffs. Jannum spoke upon his tribe that night. Said he, "The Bronzespear clan may wish to have their revenge upon us, but they shall fail, not once have I been forced from a battlefield, and never shall I, The Bronzespears may claim among them ride men of Aedria, but the truth is known to us, Darius the Sunwalker has withdrawn his support, their weapons of iron and steel, their blessings from the heathen gods and their feigned superiority have all been withdrawn with him."
The Avenger clenched his fist before us, his figure brought to prominence by the sun's gold.

It was then that a stale appeared buried within his very eye, wine of the human soul pouring from the wound,
illuminated gold by the sun behind him. The chief's cries drowned in a sea of battle-cries from east and west.
Blades flew from sheathes, but all were too slow, horseflesh met man and storms of human forms, men, women,
and even their child kin. Screams flew through the sky! Blood covered my very eyes! The horror was immeasurable! I freed myself from a snare of limb and corpse only to witness Chief Jannum's arm removed from his shoulder.

It was the son of Chief Bronzespear who had charged alone across the bloodied field. Driving his blade relentlessly against Chief Jannum's guard. Jannum had been by far the better bladesman, yet his eye, pulled from its socket in a moment of rage due to the arrow that had destroyed it, cost him his swordsmanship, and the younger man took his chance with a single strike, sawing through the man's limb, which morphed and jittered as if made of liquid due to the sword sliding through it. Finally it explosively flew into the blue above, coating the battlefield in a wave of the gods' chosen's very life-force. Another slice and Jannum's remaining eye popped like a squished grape.

Jannum collapsed to the ground then, falling slowly and silently, his eyes lost as to the color that had once been in them, his mouth hanging low as he hit the ground, letting out a cry of agony loud enough for the gods themselves. The Bronzespearling hefted his blade up once more, standing over the prone chief like the mountains to the south standing over the Great Steppe. With a sudden motion, he drove his blade down and struck deep into the Horselord Chief's body, striking him down. How cowardly the assault! Children ripped from their mother's bosoms and dashed across the ground like stones across a stream. Startled and riderless horses ran across the now flaming huts of the fallen men of Clan Horselord.

It was long before the Bronzespears were done picking through the shattered corpses of the Horselord dead.
Very few had escaped with their lives. I was among them. I fled north, into the very jungles, clutching my maimed hand as it dangled limply from my wrist. I found myself among the wood structures of house Baldug, and I was attended to, and to whom I am currently dictating of my tale. If there is any justice in this world, House Bronzespear shall be cast from this world before the morrow dawns, and I shall be there to desecrate their grave.

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