Elis’ enlistment was quick and unceremonious. The commander was a smart and imposing man, and Elis had found himself under scrutiny when they met. He had been pressed about his faith and his reasons for joining the Black Sheild. He hoped his explanations had been satisfactory to the Commander, but it was difficult to read on a man who was as experienced as Terryn. He found himself assigned to the command of Sergeant Haesteinn, who had himself served with the Servants. The name was familiar, but they hadn’t served within the same company. Perhaps they had even fought in the same battles on separate flanks, but their paths had never crossed. It didn’t matter, any former Servant would be both a trustworthy and capable commanding officer. He made his way to Hasesteinn’s command tent in time to heard word that they had been placed as the vanguard. He would be more than pleased to help lead this army against those Cherwinian cowards. Once Haesteinn finished addressing his men, Elis approached him to introduce himself. “Sergeant Haesteinn, I’m Elis Rutledge. Commander Terryn assigned me to your command. I look forward to doing The Monarch’s work with you tomorrow. If they’re anything you require of me, I’m at your command.” There was little more than to rest for the night and make preparations for the morning. Before turning in himself, he stopped at the stables to relieve Epiphany of his armor and make sure his horse would be prepared for him in the morning. He would be riding alongside the vanguard’s cavalry.
Elis was one of the first to wake. By the time the sun had begun coming up, he was sitting by the fire warming himself and inspecting his gear for the coming battle. He had his armor laid beside him and he was retensioning his bow. He inspected each of his arrows before returning them to their quiver. He polished the cross of his staff before saying a prayer for strength and protection to the Monarch. Once dawn approached, the whole camp came alive. He pulled his simple leather armor over his linen shirt and tightened its straps before shimmying into his chainmail. Once his armor was donned, he made his way to the mess tent for a light breakfast. His meal was quick, but enjoyable. It seemed they at least had a few cook who knew what they were doing. He made sure to thank the cook for her delicious meal before he left.
The remaining time before they set off was spent walking amongst the troops, inspecting their gear and assisting them in armoring themselves. While it hadn’t been his job to inspect the troops, a prepared and well readied army could mean the difference between a decisive victory and bloody defeat. He aided archers in ensuring their bows were properly tensioned. Satisfied with the soldier's preparations, he collected his horse. She had been fitted with her own set of light war armor, prepared for frontline combat. It was a simple arrangement, thick leather with thin metal plating riveted over bearing the colors of the Black Sheild. Her reigns were reinforced with chainmail to prevent them being severed in the heat of combat. He placed his staff. bow and quivers in their holsters on her saddle and led her back to the vanguard. Of the 60 or 70 soldiers in their company, there would be 12 on horse who would assist in sowing seeds of chaos among the enemy to ensure that the vanguard didn’t find themselves overwhelmed.
As the men collected their gear, he heard Haesteinn’s order and immediately assisted. He was adept at helping others fit armor. It gave him the opportunity to ensure each soldier would be prepared for the trials they would surely face in the combats to come. As he assisted the sergeant, he inspected each piece of armor before fitting it. It was all well-crafted, well maintained. The chainmail was finely made, sure to stop most arrows and short thrusts. This was a man who knew how to prepare for a battle. “There you are Sergeant, sir.”
During the march, Elis moved from one horseman to the next ensuring they all knew what would be expected of them. It seemed, out of these men on horse, he by far held the most combat experience. He made sure they understood how to use the horse to strike and retreat before the enemy had chance to respond. It was a quick training briefing, and he hoped they would take the lesson to heart. It would probably decide whether they lived or died on the field. It was clear some of these men had not seen real combat before, some of their horses weren’t even fit enough to wear their own armors. He made sure these men knew their role would be seeking out single units and archers, and not engaging men in groups. Elis finally reminded the men that no mercy should be levied unless they have surrendered, as per the Commander’s orders.
They were soon behind the tree line at the Cherwinian’s camp. Elis could feel the electric tension in the air among the men. All were ready to jump into the fray at Sergeant Haesteinn’s command. And as the sergeant roared a battle cry, the soldiers rallied with his casting their own voices into the air. Elis drew his bow, arrow notched and led the horsemen out into the field, “For the King!” He quickly let loose an arrow, finding its target. The enemy who had called out against them and began rallying men to his side dropped like a stone as the arrow pierced his neck. All but a few of the soldiers quickly scattered from him as they searching frantically for the source of the arrow. Elis thundered past them as he let loose another arrow. This one didn’t find its mark, but his third did, striking a soldier attempting to mount his horse, dropping him to the ground leg still tangled in its stirrup.
The handful of men on horse for the most part followed the instruction he had given them, wheeling into the confused Cherwinians long enough to deal a few blow and then racing off again. One had managed to get his horse caught by a couple spearmen and was unceremoniously thrown from his horse and skewered. “Don’t let their knights mount!” Elis shouted out to the horsemen. They circled around and charged past a group of infantry and battered a group of knights who had finally donned their heavy armor and were attempting to get on their horses and into battle. Elis tucked his bow into his saddle and lifted up his staff to engage these heavily armored opponents. He held it parallel with the ground across his body as he passed the first knight, allowing the momentum of his horse to cause the damage as he charged past and let the heavy iron of his cross plant firmly into the side of the knight’s helmeted head. The man tumbled from his horse in a heap on the ground, unmoving. The horsemen following Elis attacked other knights, to varying degrees of success. Most of the knights abandoned their attempts at mounting as the horsemen circled back for another pass and to return to safety of their main force. Again Elis readied his staff as he passed another mounting Knight, striking him square in the back. He slumped against his horse for a moment before collapsing to the ground in pain.
The group of horsemen galloped back past their allies and rested for a moment. Elis pointed toward a group of archers that had finally organized and was sending volleys of arrows at the vanguard, “Next target. Just like the knights. Make one pass through them and back and return.” They thundered off. As he followed them, his attention was drawn to the fighting happening amongst the infantry. He could see Jahan, one of the few men on the field he recognized after their meeting with the commander, being surprised from behind. Elis wheeled his horse around and sped into the engagement. He saw Jahan dart away from his assailant and begin a retreat, but the brute of a man attacking him began giving chase, along with several others in his company. Elis could see from here that Jahan had been wounded in the engagement. It wouldn’t matter if he escaped if the man simply ran him down. Elis spurred his horse faster and caught Jahan’s pursuers off guard. He galloped past and hit the enemy with his iron topped staff, sending him hurtling off his feet and onto his back as the iron cross slammed into his chest. Elis continued on until he had returned to near the treeline, where Jahan had reached. He waived down the medical staff, “Get this man a field medic, before he bleeds out!” Unable to rest just yet, Elis turned around while trading his staff for his bow once more and began loosing arrows at the other two who had given chase but were now just standing over their comrade, attempting to get him back to his feet. They were both heavily armored, so the arrows did little more than convince them not to rush the treeline any further.