[color=gold][h3]SPEROS[/h3][/color]
You fly down the hill through a thin fog of powder smoke. There are perhaps half a dozen Hussars left standing and they have quickly regrouped. A figure in a black greatcoat with gold trim barks orders to his fellows from the center of their line, gesturing furiously with his stunted saber. 

The Hussars spot you when you are halfway down the hill, and you feel a cry tear itself from your throat as you rush headlong towards them. Your own saber is clenched tightly in your right fist, though you do not recall drawing it, and you raise it above your head and spin it fiercely through the air.

Whatever the Hussars expected, it is certainly not this; two of your foes panic and break out of the line at the same time a third is picked off by musket fire from your fellows still on the hill.

You brace yourself for impact.


[color=gold][h3]IOANNIS[/h3][/color]
You leave your unconscious officer and ride onwards. After a bare couple minutes of riding, you and your men break through the treeline to find the opposite hillside crawling with German and Galician soldiers. A somewhat fortified bridge stands inbetween them and you, and on it stand some eight or so men in Imperial Dragoon uniforms - the other one of your patrols. As you watch, a cavalry charge by half a dozen German Hussars is repulsed, but not before they cut down an unfortunate Dragoon with their sabers. 

Your fellows on the bridge are clearly hard-pressed, and sorely require whatever aid you may render them.