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[sub][color=Silver][i]The Siege of Amone, September 9th - [url=https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=lKvtoe2rxSw&list=PLPfHaI9XqTnGpH_0exivet07cj0cJo9_N&index=7][b]Arrival and Spectating[/b][/url][/i][/color][/sub]
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[color=Silver]	A bleakness was in the air. All around the train was a dreary slither of mud and grass torn from its foundation. Steam and condescending hisses of pressurised gas exhausted from beneath the wheels and mechanisms below, once more creating an obscured vision of the destination outside their carriage. There was a time where the soldiers of the 15th Atlantic Rifles considered the train to be discomforting and unappealing, but in comparison to what they were going to walk into from here onward no one wanted to leave the luxury behind. Many were told to grab their gear as the more seasoned officers walked up and down, making sure everyone were to stand on their own two feet and prepare for immediate, yet orderly, departure from the cabins they had been living within. Those who were either too tired or hadn't yet awoken to the view of their location were forced onto their feet by the officers, lifting them by the shoulders, holding them in place and almost tossing their own helmets onto their scalps, patting them several times to ensure that they were attentive and prepared. Of course, a vast majority of the new replacements were eager, happy to be where they were and had a lust for getting out there and proving what a wonderful adventure they were about to commit towards, however those who truly knew the sights of the war were unpleasantly unimpressed with what was to come. Stains of their past visions were quite clear on the faces. Some of those new to the frontline were confused by the bleak tone of the rest of their comrades, the ones who had actually seen how little of an adventure there was to experience. Many-a-man would whisper beneath their coarse and bruised breaths that the only adventure that could be considered was the wishful prayers to stay alive one more miserable day.

	These men and women truly had been blistered, hadn't they? Their faiths and vowed affiliations towards their people, their country and themselves had been scattered into pieces, awaiting their own conspired deaths to succumb throughout the time purgatory had barely bought for them. Those who weren't even religious stood forward and prayed beneath their breaths sometimes just to hold onto that fractured hope dearly. [i]May the will of the Federation just be in Victory and Survival[/i]. Many would utter this phrase true in and out as those lost on the frontline managed to haunt them once more. This was the new world. This was the true meaning of human horror.

	Jean stared effortlessly outside the windows. As a Corporal, that singular step above the Lance position forced him to partake in the duty of wandering up and down the cabins to ensure everyone was preparing to disembark their mode of transport for the approaching battle at hand. There was to be little time for all of them to fixate on what there was. Captain Middleton had announced the day before that they'd have roughly an hour to gear up before they'd begin the very short march up to the frontline, where they would watch and wait for the first wave to conclude its strike, opening a large breach in the outer defences for Amone's interception and the influx of newfound troops. In reality, Jean feared this the most. There was a chance that these fateful men and women were to be locked into Amone, never to come out once more. Some of those who wandered around always told of growing up or visiting Amone many times. It was a grand location for religious monoliths to gather and appraise one another in ceremonial prosperity. Lucia even told of tales from her youngest childhood, having visited the great Amone Cathedral, also known as the Cathedral of Light and Spirit, which supposedly stood at its peak spire-height of 210ft. It was quite wondrous to think that like-minded individuals set aside their differences to accommodate one another in a hostile-free environment. However, war had obviously changed that. Civilians were still within those city walls and so were soldiers who'd been caught in the urban siege since its first rendition.

	Amone was quite a controversial battlefield for some. The Federation first fought there in 1912EC, January, when the Federation were finally driven out of Assen. As the grand city had perched itself on the border of Assen and the mid-Federation homelands, such as East Francia, it was quite clear that the final Asseni resistance would be located within the city itself. Imperial forces struck the city quickly with the first ever deployment of shocktroopers known to such a scale. Sappers completely enhanced the offensive and defensive capabilities of the city tenfold with a unique tunnel system to shelter those from artillery bombardments. Some were even used to flank and bypass the frontlines of the Federation soldiers within the city, eventually resulting in the crippling defeat of the Federation once more. It was, however, when Assen was fully taken that the stalemate took its ultimate effect. The quickfire of its rapid blood-letting ensured that the Federation focused entirely on a defensive doctrine until they could secure a foothold to assault from. It worked from there, but the first Siege of Amone lasted but several days. Now, this Siege had been going on for around two months, even before the 15th Atlantic Rifles were reassigned. With the Federation focusing on an offensive stance to the war, Jean finally understood that this was most likely the attempt of breaking the siege. Even now, that thought scared him again. What if the entire Federation's chances of winning or concluding the war was resting on the backs of this singular regiment? How could anyone prepare for such a mantle of responsibility?

	Eventually, the train finally came to a stop and the final hiss of steam sprayed from beneath the tracks. Once it had cleared, the sights of Amone's forward operating base was revealed slightly more clearly. Tents were everywhere and the odd buildings, mainly consistent of makeshift materials, had been constructed throughout the months to protect the important equipment necessary to executing the upcoming assault. Word had it that there were already hundreds of Federation troops currently scattered all over Amone, as there had been for a while, as well as the inner streets being divided up into territory grab's of pockets. This forward operating base was most likely where they had been sent to die from.

	The slow gravitational shift given by the train's complete halt caused a few of the more tired soldiers to stagger in the hallways, but any who fell over were once again swooped up by the shoulders from another NCO, likely a sergeant or above. There was a strong misery around the area from those who'd experienced the war before, and thus the unloading of the train began. Jean could hear the call transposing itself through each carriage, one by one, as the booming voice of another senior NCO kept everyone on their toes just that little while longer. Those who were to forget their gear would never see them again, of course, unless they'd taken them now. Jean had made sure he'd taken everything of value, including double checking Reyna and Kalisa had too managed to begin their exit collectively.[/color]

[color=Orange][b]"9th Platoon, begin disembarkation!"[/b][/color] [color=Silver]Jean was amongst the first from the Platoon's carriage to take the first steps off of the train's carriages. There was a sense of relief and fear both digging into his spine when he felt that rush of cold fresh air once more. September was somehow even more murky and miserable than the August had brought with its heavy showers. Jean, however, was slightly relieved that his scruffy and dirty uniform had not been soaked by the potential precipitation and downpour they could've had that morning. The sun had barely woken up from its own slumber, let alone half of the platoon, though it couldn't even be seen with the amount of dense clouds hanging above their miserable heads. Jean took his surroundings in clearly, knowing that it was only a small matter of an hour before they'd be leaving the place for Amone. Mud stains and murky patterns littered half of the tents with strange splatters of earth across them. For once, it was a relief to see the place in a far more mobile state than the trenches all across this Europan front. Jean could always tell that it was a relief to be without the confinement of corrugated iron sheet walls. This was one of those moments, one that he slightly cherished before they were to be sent into the possible confines of a city. Once more, a barking order came out of the thin air, preparing them for their next set of instructions from the Captain.[/color] [color=Orange][b]"Platoon, platoon-shun!"[/b][/color]

[color=0AB100][b]"As you were, ladies and gentlemen."[/b][/color] [color=Silver]With a thick cigar in his mouth and a large black [url=https://ichef.bbci.co.uk/news/660/media/images/77700000/jpg/_77700613_aquascutumtest.jpg]trench coat[/url] swung around his entire body, Middleton let out a thin cough of his own discomfort before talking down to his subordinates within his personal platoon.[/color] [color=0AB100][b]"Welcome to the outskirts of Amone. Things are going to be a lot different around here, as the change of scenery might test even our greatest of veterans, myself included. I understand that communication is going to be key in these environments so I will make things absolutely clear here. You will be split into Squads, not as a platoon, or company or regiment. As many of us will be fulfilling many of the tasks out there alone, I have orders from high command to put most of my soldiers along with those they trust, or at least know something of. If you don't, looking at the new apes someone decided to give to us, well tough shit, learn to. Many of you will not have access to me or other commanders on a regular basis, so you need to all prepare yourself for the mindset of depending on one another, as much as I would love to push all of your arse's into position. Corporal Robin-Charpentier; you will be leading Squad 1 and you've been briefed on who is joining your squad, as I am sure you are aware. Equally Sergeant..."[/b][/color]

[color=Silver]	Jean thought for a moment to himself whilst the Captain began to announce each and every Squad leader. Squad 1, huh? Jean was threatened the previous night by Middleton about fucking up the procedures. It was as if he'd been spied on and that everyone he knew were amongst the group destined to join under his command. Daniel and Isaac were to act as his second-in-commands whilst the bulk of the force were to be made up of Kalisa, Diana, Michael, Gwyn, Zacary, Reyna, Franz, Britta, Lucia, Luke and Freya. There were a few other names he didn't recognise amongst the pile, however he had little to no understanding if they were reserves or not. Interesting enough was how Freya was placed in under his command whilst Thomas was assigned elsewhere. Jean hadn't the confidence to yet go up to and speak to the legend, but hearing his voice and conversations were almost like confirmation to the rumours. He truly was as honourable and caring as they made him out to be, unlike their Captain.[/color]

[color=0AB100][b]"For now, you have a single hour, no more and no less, to grab all of your gear. Before you grab the guns and ammunition, of course, I want you all to report to the Stores Tent. The Federation Army is being issued a brand new uniform to replace these groggy and uncomfortable ones, so please get changed into them as soon as you can. Now piss off and hurry the fuck up, we're short on time and patience. Amone is our goal for today."[/b][/color] [color=Silver]And with that, Middleton simply moved onto the next Platoon without much of a care in his entire body. Jean watched him leave with a sigh of his own, before ushering everyone in the right direction. Equally, they all began to head for their new tent to exchange the old uniforms with the new...[/color]

[centre][i]And so time passed...[/i][/centre]
[color=Silver]	Ironically, there was never the thought that a light could be brought into this miserable day. Jean however was easily disproved when he saw the outcome of his own [url=https://media.discordapp.net/attachments/498628320745750528/531871707712061480/bdae45ac9c2e9389e09a28f9e95dadaa--german-uniforms-military-uniforms.png]uniform[/url] in the mirror of his private changing cubicle. He turned himself from side to side, occasionally watching each angle of his newfound attire. Jean had to admit to himself...he looked good. And by 'good', Jean meant [i]good[/i]. The blue was entirely up to his fashion. Underneath the overlay of green and a strange pattern some considered to be camouflage sat a deep shade of blue that was intended to blend well in the urban environments, as well as assist in identifying the core difference between the upgraded and newly developed Imperial uniforms. Equally, their helmet were the same, but the webbing was more adaptable, their clothing felt slightly more flexible and there was less itch and discomfort to it. Jean really did feel like someone walking on broadway when he stared in that mirror, almost chuckling to himself at how ridiculous he was at checking himself out during a crisis like this. At least he was trying to have his own small fun on his own.

	Eventually he emerged from the tent, and to his surprise once everyone else had gathered outside he felt a familiar nerve strike him harshly. It was just like when he was in the trench of Hill 58, at the top, where he first properly took a glimpse at some of his comrades. Michael was definitely less...short...probably, from what his uniform at least made him look. Obviously though, Michael was still as small as a pinhead in comparison to the likes of Jean, which he did still smirk to himself at. He didn't mean no harm for the more privileged lad, but at least he was friendly enough to potentially let such remarks slide with the simple retort of his own larger stature. At least a dynamic like that could exist between such comrades, and that in itself made Jean very eased in his mind. Equally, he also saw Kalisa and Reyna. There was no need to explain or deepen the feelings that bounced around his chest that moment, so he kept himself quiet and slowly looked away with an almost brightly red flourish of cheeks, hoping the duo hadn't seen him react in such an embarrassing way. Instead, he simply focused on grabbing his rifle, equipment and supplies necessary for the upcoming assault on the city. Jean's heart paced itself once more, both over the slight thought of the two previous females, but mostly because of the overwhelming nervousness of the battle ahead.

	Quickly, once the time had reached its final five minutes before departure, Jean made sure everyone gathered around as he drew a basic map laying out Amone from afar. There weren't enough details on the map showing what the landmarks and infrastructure they would encounter within Amone was to be like, however Jean was unable to make any true measurements or adjustments himself until he'd been in the city. Thus, he spoke surely to those around him, finally using that newfound authority everyone was dependent on.[/color]

[color=Aqua][b]"Right...Squad 1. That's us...Pardon the hesitation, but I might as well dive straight into this. Within five minutes we're going to begin the march into the nearby clearance zone, awaiting for a Cavalry charge spearheaded by the 7th Cavaliers to break through the soft outer defences. Once they are clear, we are to move at a steady pace, not too slow though, into the city from the breach point and instantly split from the rest of the regiment, as every squad shall. Specifically, as we have the most sappers, we're going to be tasked with making our way to the South-side of the City Centre, where suspicions of the Imperial supply tunnel network are said to begin. It is our job to bring satchel charges into their proximity and to detonate them. Sappers should know how to do that, but in the event of us losing our sappers we are to carry out with the mission regardless of numbers. Not my orders, unfortunately, but Middleton's of course. I have to warn you all though..."[/b][/color] [color=Silver]Jean, for a moment, took off his helmet and placed it by his side, ensuring that he could meet the eyes of every single soldier around him. There was a sense of reputable understanding within each glance he had to give out to those following his commands, and thus he tried to uphold that confident leadership tone that everyone needed to get out of him. It would be stressful for anyone, including those like Daniel, to watch him break down easily on his first assignment.[/color] [color=Aqua][b]"Save for our, well...our new guys, this is going to be unlike Hill 58 or anything we've faced before. There are no trenches. We are going to be alone for most of it. We will be fighting in houses, streets and rooms, trying to make the best of the situation. According to the intelligence, which is something we really fucking lack, if you don't mind me saying, the city is currently split into many different pockets of territory. There are areas some consider neutral whilst there are small streets and large buildings under the occupation of either Federation or Imperial troops. However, we've got to exercise extreme caution whilst we are in Amone. Word has it that there are still a lot of civilians residing within Amone, those who refuse to leave the city. Small pockets of these areas are neither controlled by Federation nor Imperial troops. Keep your trigger discipline at its highest and only shoot when we are in a necessary firefight. There's no need for unnecessary encounters either. Do we all understand what we have been given? Crystal clear?"[/b][/color]

[color=Silver]	Eventually, the call came from the higher ups to get moving, and thus Jean patted everyone one of his comrades on the back with a half-nervous smile shining upon them. There was a slight hesitation to how he patted Diana, as he didn't want to trigger one of her strangely obsessive outbursts upon him. Lucia, despite having been somewhat sad herself, gave her brightest smile once more to everyone again. Finally, when he got to Reyna and Kalisa, he hesitated to pat them, but instead spoke to the duo with a slight nervousness to his voice. The three were at the back of the group as they started to move over to the department area at the West side of the camp.[/color]

[color=Aqua][b]"H-Hey, you two...I just wanted to let you know that despite what happened at Garnia, you can...you can count on me to keep you alive. Well...Kalisa, you're already a badass yourself!"[/b][/color] [color=Silver]He hesitated, realising how openly he admitted and returned the statement of courage she had first shown him during the charge up Hill 58.[/color] [color=Aqua][b]"W-Wait...uh...you're a sweet wo...no wait, that's not better...uhh...Reyna! Yes, Reyna, you can count on both of us though. I know this will be your first taste of true combat, but if you just latch onto those in our squad I'll...we'll keep you safe. Yeah...Also, I can't have you two dying. You've got my scarf, which I must say suits you, Kalisa and you, Reyna, still have my sister's pendant. Don't lose them please!"[/b][/color]

[color=Silver]	His nerves got the better of him as he jokingly rubbed the back of his head, placing his helmet back onto his scalp once more and collecting is rifle. The webbing, full of ammunition, notes, rations, dressings and more were all tucked away either within his soldier's rucksack or chest rig. There was even a strange...mask? No one really knew what it was, but whenever Jean asked an officer, he simply wrote it off as an essential for confidential reasoning. Either way, they were all now heading towards the Western part of the camp. As soon as they had all arrived, the Captain gave the order to march forward, as it was not that far of a distance. The clouds above them once more took a grey turn, watching them with haunting glares as they began to traverse towards the Clearance Area, where they would have a clear view of the Cavalier's and their push.[/color]

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[sub][color=Silver][i]The Siege of Amone, September 9th - [b]The Push of the Cavaliers[/b][/i][/color][/sub]
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[youtube]https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=h1ZaS4JPxKQ[/youtube][/centre]

[color=Silver]	The world clearly wasn't made for such faces. Awaiting in the desolate winds of outer Amone was definitely amongst her worst, and yet chillingly empty, experiences to go through in life as she knew it. But yet despite knowing this in the bottom of her heart, there was a strange happiness to feel with such an expedition. She'd come a long way, her and Henry. Such a stallion, he was, to carry her through thick and thin. They'd gone through training together after growing up on such a crowded farm together. If they hadn't requested her healthy horse she wouldn't have enlisted, yet here she was following and guiding her beautiful maned beast with majesty and compassion. Her and the rest of the 7th Cavaliers were all like that with their mounts, all happy to be paired with such vastly beautiful creatures. Every day and every night they would spend time with their companion for life and feed them, groom them, adjust new horseshoes and ensure they were in peak physical and emotional health. To them, they were not animals but family and friends. Everyone was tightly bound together by their love of such creatures and the lovely affection the horses gave back to them. Gwendolyn was one of those who'd ridden such beasts like Henry for years, now having her skills and partnership tested. There wasn't a single regiment, not a platoon or even a soldier alike Henry who'd give her the honour and hope of making it through a bloody campaign. It was her first charge, as it was with most of the soldiers in the regiment. Either way, she was hopeful only that her friend and everyone else could show the speed and honour of the cavalrymen equally.

	Demographics were clear that the nerves of both man and horse were conjoined into one tightly kept ribbon, wrapping itself around several times before loosening itself to a more relaxed silence. Everyone wore their brightly dazzling uniforms and held their sheathed sabres with pride. It was all very ceremonial, the stuff that dressage usually presented. It reminded her of those dressage shows her mother would always show her when she was younger. How she dreamed of growing up to join such beautiful decorations of horse-based showmanship, not putting any physical stress or pressure on Henry to simply please the audience. It was never about fame nor that honour from doing so, but rather the fact she could live out the rest of Henry's life peacefully, staying by his side until he died of old age and was laid to rest in the back of her stables in a peaceful grave, a monument to be put up for him. However, she still felt nervous sitting atop of the horse, waiting in the cold. However, whilst everyone looked around, not knowing what to say, Gwen looked outwards. Her Private insignia shimmered and glowed brightly in the morning dew as she began to quietly sing...[/color]

[centre][color=CCBA12][b][i]"Oh holy, God and gracefulness,
May we carry on.
Unto the breach and heavens,
Our horses gallop strong."[/i][/b][/color][/centre]

[color=Silver]	Soon enough, everyone around her started to join in, one by one. They all smiled hopefully at the Private, the small and young Gwen, who wanted to lift the spirits of everyone around her. Some joined in with baritone charm whilst others took up the mantle of a soprano role. All of them held their voices in unison. Private Gwendolyn stroked Henry's thick mane with happiness over the community she had around her and the singing that went ahead. And so, they all sang the rest of the song, all of their voices being heard by all those around them, including the 15th Atlantic Rifles regiment at the nearby clearance area, waiting for their success.[/color]

[centre][color=CCBA12][b][i]"Shall we march into the distance?
Shall we raise our banners high?
Will we not hold our candles
And whisper into the night?

Take my hand, and hoof, my children.
We are the sons of life.
For the Federation, we will strive
And stand our victory.

For now we are the man,
For now we are the wife.
Of the greatest day and night now
We cavaliers will strike!"[/i][/b][/color][/centre]

[color=Silver]	They all cheered in unison together, once more, as the Captain of the Cavaliers took his post forward. 200 horses, all in their ranks and files with their respective riders atop of them. The collection of cavalrymen was seriously a sight to behold for any party who struck a gaze upon them. The blend of formality within their extremely substantial clothing and swords made it clear that these were the soldiers of the old world who were prepared to do what they must for the future of the Federation. Most of them knew nothing of the combat of the world and so they listening brightly as their Captain turned around, watching them rearwards with a large shout. In his backdrop was the tall towers still somehow standing within Amone, clearly showing their target on the outer-rim of the territory in Amone.[/color]

[color=A200CC][b]"Cavaliers, this is the day we were born for! No more will these Imperial bastards laugh at the true culture of the horsemen, the stallions of the Federation. We once showed ourselves in the last wars of the world that we were a force to be reckoned with, and so we will prove it once more! We are the heroes of this war, and our mounts are the chariots of fire and light! May we head into this taken city and open the gates for the 15th Atlantic Rifles to help liberate the final days of this siege. For the Federation! For the Glory of Mankind and Beast alike! For the Glory...Of the Cavaliers! ON MY MARK!"[/b][/color] [color=Silver]Gwen held her breath and patted the mane of Henry once more. She leaned down towards his ears, placing her mouth beside the long lobes and speaking into them with the softest voice she could ever have.[/color]

[color=CCBA12][b]"Let's show these Imperials what its like to meet us, Henry. You and me, boy. We're a team, one that never separates. And once we're back, they have a box of apples for us."[/b][/color] [color=Silver]Her giddy whispers almost excited the horse, as if it knew every word she muttered. Their almost spiritual and natural connection was unmatched by any other rider in the entirety of Europa. They were a prodigal duo that would never be bested by the rapidity of technology. Horses were to be with her forever and Henry was going to spearhead the brand new world of democracy and peace. This was her chance. This was Henry's chance. She tightly held onto her reigns and listened out for that last fateful order.[/color]

[color=A200CC][b]"CHARGE!"[/b][/color]

[color=Silver]	In their ranks, line by line, each and every row of horses began to gallop forward. As soon as three rows had begun their strong gallop towards Amone's outskirts, the sound of their hooves kicking into the mud began to shake the very foundations of the earth. Everyone could now hear the sudden rumbling of the ground. Amone was in the pathway of this miraculous voyage. Her heart accelerated. Henry's breaths were in complete tandem with the other stallions around her. Each of their graceful rushes began to exhilarate the blood within her veins. One by one, each and every cavalier began to draw their sabres and hold them in the sky. And just as the supposed defences may have caught a glance at the oncoming storm, each of the Cavaliers let out their war-cry. Even with angelic vocals, Gwen managed to call out in great fury. Nothing but the wind was in her face and the smell of victory. This was i-

	A rat-at-at began to suddenly sound. Sounds of whizzes and whistles came soaring past her quickly as the first at the front suddenly found themselves gunned. Bullets began to topple the horses and their riders quickly, dropping them like flies to a bulb of light. Horses kept their cool but Gwen was taken by complete surprise as several of her comrades beside her toppled beneath the weight of their own demise. Blood began to soak in all directions and Henry darted from left to right in order to avoid both the corpses and potential machinegun fire that was posted before them. Her eyes widened and she kept her breath short, ducking her head down behind the neck of Henry for just a moment. They were getting closer, it was not too far now. She clutched onto the hilt of her sabre with extreme panic and anger. What was going on around her? As the two darted again to the left, she caught witness of the Captain, with life slowing down completely, taking a large peppering of lead into his chest. Blood sprouted like a seed within the ground in the spring's sunlight, and his body continued, strapped onto his horse clearly. Seconds later, a straight bullet penetrated the skull of his poor, yet majestic stallion leading the front. And beside where the Captain once was, more riders and their horses collapsed in huge waves. Henry continued to dart: Left. Right. Left more. Keep at it. No stopping. Henry was the behemoth to get her through. Casualties were not as high as she expected, until suddenly she felt herself flung forward, tossed across the sky for a few metres.

	As she soared, her hand slipped loose of her sword, watching it float away in another direction as she tumbled into the mud, sliding and bruising herself with many cuts from the coarse stones beneath her. Her ears rang, beating out in strong thumping actions. She scuffed her own throat as she coughed, laying low purely out of the pain she'd been caused after being tossed across the sky. Her head pounded as hard as the machine guns did, until they faded away, stopping for just a second. Slowly, whilst laying in the short grass, Gwen began to lift her head slowly, her body shaking as she did so.

	Before her sat two machine guns. Only two. Four Imperials, maybe six if another machine gun was concealed. They seemed to take a breather, not seeing her. Had something gone wrong? Was it...was it over-

	Her eyes flashed in exemplified horror when Gwendolyn bared witness to the slaughter behind her. An entire field, filled with the corpses of horses and riders alike, still freshly bleeding. It was like a sea, one that would never stop going until the horizon dipped down beyond her vision, however there was no end to the sight. All the gunners had to do was control the heat of their barrels, aim and fire, and this was the result. Had not a single horse made it within thirty metres of their target, these simple double emplacements of modern tools. Tears welted up in her eyes as she lifted her head slightly more, suddenly seeing the corpse of a familiar friend...Henry was bent over, his front legs had given in and blood poured from his poor and rich skull. It had catapulted her across the sky when he'd been hit, and seeing her only friend suddenly be amongst a sea of dead bodies made her rise up in absolute fear and agony. She screamed, standing up slowly and running backwards, away from the city, towards the fallen comrade: Henry the Stallion. However, just before she could reach the body of her deceased ally, all that the 15th Atlantic Rifles could hear was a final burst of machine gun fire, signalling the end of the 7th Cavaliers...[/color]