SKIRMISH ON THE HIGHLANDS
ROLLUND PLAINS
1340
DEMACIAN-NOXIAN SKIRMISH
A contingent of soldiers meandered the hastily made camp as the sun shone high in the sky. The light blinded them as it descended from the mountains in the north. The ramshackle camp was made without many fortifications much to the dismay of its commanding officer, who seemed to be doing the best with what he had. There had been rumors that the Noxians were trying to take this strategic point a crossroad to the southern part of the continent and a road to Piltover. Captain Sthal though thought this was a pretty foolish endeavor. Rushed here with little intel, command unwilling to even gather some info if the rumor was credible or any forces in the area. No diplomatic channels opened to Piltover to see if we were stepping on their toes, Sthal really didn't want to start two fights he couldn't finish. He sighed as he pulled out a cigarette and took a puff contemplating if high command was drunk or incompetent. But soldiers follow orders, and it seemed this was requested by the king, and he was the lucky man for the job. Unfortunately for him and his soldiers Sthal's worst fears were about to be realized.
The first sign was when the sentry called for the captain to the battlements. He said he spotted something that looked to be some sort of cavalry. Sthal looked into his eyeglass and indeed saw someone perched high on a hill on some sort of creature. It wasn't a horse but some kind of reptile. On top of it was too small to be a human, he recollected the tales and rumors he'd heard throughout his life to guess that small fluffy creature riding on top of the scaly one was a yordle. He was red with an eye-patch, wearing what seemed to be an officer hat and carrying a long axe. The wheels turned and clicked in Sthal's head until he remembered, it was... that yordle the ones from the stories he heard from Noxian prisoners they captured. He couldn't believe what he saw and how ridiculous it was. Those stories were absurd they sounded like stories Noxians would tell their children before bed, it would be the equivalent of the story of Galio the stone statue coming to life as he heard as a child. But it seemed that unless he was dreaming reality seemed to be staring him in the face. If the stories were to be true, he wouldn't take any chances.
Sthal yelled for a call to arms. "GRAB YOUR SWORDS, YOUR SPEARS, FIX BAYONETS, PREPARE FOR BLOOD!" The soldiers shocked at their commanders sudden outburst scrambled to form lines and prepare their defenses. The chaos of people shuffling to get to their posts readying their bolts, arrows, and reloading their rifles came to a silence as a screeching yell came from the hill.
"MY NAME IS KLED AND YOU FELLAS HERE AAAARE ON MYYYY PROPERTAHH LEAVE NOW OR BE ABSOLUTELY AND UTTERELY DEEESTROOYEED!" The Demacian soldiers looked at each other nervous and uneasy from the bellowing threat, they could scarcely believe this was happening. Sthal looked at his soldiers anxious faces and decided he had to respond to the cantankerous cavalier in kind. Perhaps as encouragement to his soldiers, an act of defiance knowing he and his soldiers were probably going to die, or maybe to leave his mark on the legend for the bards. Sthal took a deep breath and yelled at the top of his lungs, "YEAH WELL COME AND GET IT!" he taunted as it echoed through the valley. There was a silence a calm before the storm, Sthal looked at the cavalier with his eyeglass and saw a huge grin on his face. He spurred his beast and started charging down the hill and in a earsplitting scream yelling "CHAAAAAAAAAAAAARGE!" behind him a huge warband started to appear from behind the hill following his bellowing command. Sthal looked to the horde and calmly took the last drag of his cigarette, flicked it and crushed it with his boot. He took out his sword and revolver and took a stance, it was going to be a long day.