West/AnTir
This year the Spartan Warband made an impressive showing at the annual West / An Tir War; fought near the southern Oregon coast, near Gold Beach.
The Spartans fought for King Svein of An Tir; home to our Arktos Brotherhood. The An Tiran forces were delighted to have the services of so disciplined and effective a force. Victory was secured, and great were the laurels earned by the Spartan warriors present!
This expedition was led by the Basileus, Archelaus; superbly assisted by the Polemarchs Cimon, Dienekes, and Maletus, who served both days as the acting Strategus on the field!
The following is an account of the Spartan participation in the war; written by an An Tiran bard for his Baronial newsletter:
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Hear now a story of battle-fame. Near in my memory, the fighting
houses of the West Kingdom faced fierce-bred Spartans near the Sea
and in the shadow of mighty Iron Mountain. There, at the head of
the An Tir Horde, Spartans brought low the West Kingdom's wall of
shields gathered before the great road. I, Silverhart's Wayfarer,
witnessed eyes-wide this war-feat. The way open, An Tir's Horde,
strode over the corpse-filled road and entered the fields beneath
Iron Mountain to defy the Army of the West.
The full ranks of the West Kingdom were as wide as the valley
itself. There, no blade of grass stood every leaf and stalk bent to
the boot of the ill-hearted invaders. Even so, our hearts beat
bravely beside the blood-stained Spartan spears for as they marched
the Spartans shook the very earth with each angered-step. The
Spartans crossed the valley. Their shields and sp ears a mix of
shadow, bronze, iron, and red until at last they led us to the gory-
gates of the West's stronghold.
All along the walls the Spartans cast down the Wests destined-dark
warriors. As triumph neared, then safely the Spartans bore An Tirs
banner-bearer through furious-fray to the valley's middle. The
Kindom of the West swelled in death-spite and terror-thrashed toward
the shield-ring of stoic Spartans. And there at the sandled-feet of
the red-cloaked Caiethlanders, the Army of the West met breaths-end.
It is spoken that stories are the boasts of the victor, and such
tales slay the vanquished a thousand times over. But, it was no
rune-guide who spirited that brave and brutal host to its war-grave -
- that hell-harbingers name be Spartan.
HAIL
-Hallgrim Vendelsson-
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