CODEX
Rampant – heraldic term for an animal rearing
Azure – heraldic term for blue
Vert – heraldic term for green
Or – heraldic term for gold
Tabard – a short coat often worn over armor with the heraldry of the wearer. Shorter than a surcoat and open at the sides.
Flail – a spiked ball attached to a chain on a stick
The Bannorn on the Estates of Bann Oswin
Swords, arrows and broken lances stuck out of the ground like blades of grass, intermingled with bloody corpses and the crawling wounded. Nearby, a man hobbled, using a spear as a cane to replace his severed leg. Teyrn Loghain shut out the screams and groans that rose from the battlefield like a chorus – it was something that he had long since learned to live with and he justified it as the cost of saving Ferelden. Sacrifice was something that Loghain held as dear as his beloved daughter. And, if others needed to bear that sacrifice now, so much the better.
Atop his great warhorse, the Teyrn surveyed the field, watching the enemy fall back in good order. Unlike the Battles of Winter's Breath and Iachus Valley, the forces of Banns Oswin and Telmen did not rout, but held their ranks, spears bristling outward as they marched back to Telmen's castle, their pride only bent but not broken. This civil war would continue until he could bring the rebels to heel and, only then, could Anora's crown sit secure.
"Ser Cauthrien, send the light cavalry to harass their flanks. We need to pin them down and finish them here. Once that is done, we'll bring the Warden to battle and force Eamon to submit. Quick, send my order."
His dutiful captain lowered her visor and gave him a smart bow. She waved her hand to the nearby group of messengers and then spurred her horse into a gallop, leading the riders, their pennants fluttering in the wind. Just ahead, Loghain's elite pikemen were reforming their thick ranks with steel tips creating an impenetrable hedgehog. This was the unit he was most proud of, undefeated in battle by Orlesians or rebels. He turned to another messenger. "Signal them to keep their pikes in Oswin's back while Cauthrien presses them from the flanks. I'll have his head on top of Fort Drakon soon enough."
Signal flags and banners changed angles to notify the pike formations to advance. Sharp steel lowered slowly and the tromp of metal boots soon filled the air. Beyond his elite force, the Teyrn saw Oswin's men, walking backwards, their banners flying defiantly in his face. Up to now, every engagement that Loghain had fought in this civil war was a decisive victory on his part. He had to show Ferelden that resistance was futile. As in the Orlesian uprising, news of an escaped and unbowed enemy would spread like a cancer and serve as a rallying point for more rebellions.
"We end this now! I'm going forward to lead the assault!"
"Regent Loghain," a knight said in caution, "Ser Cauthrien has not yet returned with your personal guard."
"She'll just have to catch up. I cannot let Oswin and Telmen slip away. Gather what knights you have and follow me!" he said with a growl and spurred his horse forward. As he covered the grassy field the pikemen marched inexorably onward, deep kettle drums pounding out a warlike beat. He could see Cauthrien leading the light horse now, launching arrows into the ranks of Oswin's men, slowing them just as he wanted, giving time for the pikes and heavy horse to pursue.
Every beat of his horse's hooves brought him closer to uniting Ferelden and soon, he could see Oswin's banners clearly, a white unicorn rampant on a field of azure. A moment later Loghain could make out Oswin himself, mounted and shod in silver plate with a sallet helm. His blue and white tabard with the rearing unicorn made him unmistakable. That was the Teyrn's target. He waved his gauntleted fist at Cauthrien, encouraging her. "Pour it into them! That's the spirit!"
Oswin's men raised their teardrop shields, catching or deflecting a number of arrows, but several men stumbled and fell, shafts protruding from leg or head. The enemy pulled ranks tighter, overlapping their shields…slowing them down. In most battles, there is a moment of truth, the moment that great leaders seize and win the day. For Loghain, it happened at River Dane when he broke the Orlesians; it happened at Winter's Breath when he routed the Bann of that name; and it happened in Iachus Valley when stormed the gates of the rebel castle in a surprise attack and burned it to the ground. His experienced eye knew that this was that moment.
"Pikes, full advance!" he ordered, pumping his fist in the air. He looked around through the slit in his visor and could see his own banners with wyvern rampant on a field of vert and or. Two score of his heavy horse had gathered, lances at the ready. The sound of marching feet was nearly deafening now as ranks of pikes lowered into deadly place, gathering momentum. Oswin's men appeared to accept the inevitable and drove the tips of their shields into the ground and braced spears for impact. From behind the many-colored shields, Owsin's crossbowmen unleashed a torrent of bolts, the short shafts snapping through breastplates and helmets. Pikemen fell, but their fellows simply stepped over them and surged ahead. The crash of men and steel shook the ground as arrows and bolts flitted overhead. Loghain squeezed his fist as if his will alone could break the rebels. Now was not the time to lose his patience. He knew better than that.
Several desperate minutes went by as pike and spear thrust into body. The Teyrn could feel Oswin's men wavering like the Banns of Winter's Breath and Iachus Valley did before. Terror would grip the soldiers as they began to realize that their end was at hand. Some would fall back, some would flee, opening gaps for the cavalry to exploit. It was time for his signature maneuver.
"Oblique order, now!" he called and signal flags dipped and waved, telling his right flank to fold to the left to increase the pressure in the center and allow the heavy horse to charge. This moment of truth was what made Loghain a general to be reckoned with. The pikemen on the right flank skillfully broke contact and fell in behind their comrades in the center. Loghain let out a whoop and took a lance from the hands of his squire. Spurs dug into the flanks of his horse and it bolted forward ahead of the line of knights. The distance closed rapidly over the grassy field and he could see Oswin's spearmen quail.
Then, the unexpected happened. The Bann's exposed infantry folded back into the center, just as Loghain had done and Oswin's knights came at him at the gallop. The great general's tactics had been matched. Loghain was barely able to lower his lance in time and the sharpened tip punched through a man's cuirass with a loud ping, lifting him out of the saddle and into the air. The crunch of armored bodies, horses, wood and steel came a moment later, throwing up a cloud of dust. Catching his breath, the Teyrn pulled his flail from his saddle and swung the spiked ball into the back of an attacker's head. The man tumbled from the saddle and Loghain kept the momentum of the ball going as he flung it onto the breastplate of another knight in blue. The spiked ball landed with a whomp, shattering steel like glass such was the Teyrn's strength.
Ribs cracked and organs ruptured and the knight fell over backwards into the mess of dust and fallen horses. Loghain lifted his visor, unable to see what was happening around him as all was chaos and swirling dirt. Out of the gloom, he just discerned a charging steed with a rider – it was Bann Oswin himself. The Bann swung a massive two-handed sword and Loghain ducked just in time before the blade clove the head of his horse clean off. The animal collapsed right there, pinning the Teyrn's leg to the ground. Oswin reared his horse and came about, lining up a killing blow.
"The Fade take you, Loghain!"
The thrum of hoof beats grew louder and Oswin cocked his blade back as he leaned over the saddle. Loghain only had a moment to react. He kicked his leg free and rolled to the side, swinging his flail up into the horse's face. The spiked ball shattered the beast's skull and Oswin tumbled over it onto the ground. The Teyrn marched at his stunned opponent and spun the flail in the air to gather momentum. As the Bann rose, he flung the ball into the man's arm, several of the spikes puncturing armor and lodging into flesh. Oswin's arm hung limply and he tried to draw a dagger.
"I'll have the last laugh, Loghain!" He made a thrust at the Teyrn's groin, but Loghain caught the man's wrist.
"I gave you the chance to submit, Oswin! I gave you the chance to make Ferelden stronger, but you defied me!"
"With you as its dictator? I think not!"
Loghain yanked the flail off of Oswin's arm and twirled it overhead, bringing it down right atop the Bann's head. Spikes drove through the helmet and blood spattered out from the visor. Oswin crumpled heavily into the dirt. The Teyrn's victory was complete…or was it?
With the dust settled, he could see the bulk of Oswin's army and the entire army of Bann Telmen filing into Telmen's castle. Oswin's sacrifice had allowed their escape. For the first time, an enemy had survived and remained defiant when Loghain was personally on the field. For the first time, doubt gnawed at his innards. This was just the sort of thing that the Warden and her rebels would use to fuel the fires that could destroy the Ferelden that he loved so dear.
Ser Cauthrien rode up and lowered her head. "I am sorry, Your Grace. It seemed as if they knew our strategy. We will have a hard fight ahead of us."
Loghain took a deep breath and shook the doubt from his mind. "We will be victorious yet. Bring up the siege train and set camp. We'll bring Telmen's walls down around his ears."