Time: Ariel 53rd, 1447, 16:00. Location: Second Continent, Narnendia

Clop, Thud, Clop, Thud. The sound of footsteps and hoofbeats echoed throughout the road. Thousands of Aryvanion soldiers marched in formation, mostly peasants who had been drafted into the levies. One of the soldiers glances over at the cavalry, jealously looking at the nobles who are wearing shiny steel armor, a few with slight enchantments such as increased durability or temperature control. He mutters under his breath to the soldier next to him, “Wish I could just beat one of those nobles to death and take their armor. Not like they use it much anyways.” The soldier next to him nudges him slightly and nods behind him, “Shh, the purge squad is almost right behind us. They’ll execute you for anti-Aryvanion thoughts.” The man glances back behind him, shuddering as soon as he catches a glimpse of one of the purge knights. Wearing matte black steel armor with red outlines, a slight glow to the armor as they are standard enchanted with enhanced durability, temperature control, and mana resistance. The knight at the front, Duke Francis raises his right arm in a fist, “HALT!” Everyone freezes behind him, some of the knights moving closer to the front as they stare in front of them, hearing a slight buzz in the distance. The buzz begins to get louder as it comes closer, eventually becoming a roar as two things fly overhead. Duke Francis yells to the soldiers, heading towards the trees, “TAKE COVER!”

The planes come back around over the group, flying low to get a good count of the troops, “This is Rover-2, counting approximately 20 thousand men approaching your position, 20 miles out on the road.” Static. “Copy, Rover-2, this is Yankee-1, you have clearance to engage what you can and pull back.” The two aircraft go out far before turning around to make a third pass, by now the Aryvanion soldiers had gotten used to the two passes, and seeing the planes as no threat they continued to march down the road. The first aircraft comes in fast and low, just above the trees with the second close behind, bomb bays opening and releasing a total of 8,000 pounds of bombs between the two. BOOM! The ground shuddered and skies shattered as the bombs exploded, the smell of gunpowder and burnt flesh staining the area. Cries of terror echo through the Aryvanion army as peasant soldiers run into the woods, the few who are injured on the ground being trampled by their comrades and nobles who were blasted from their horses get crushed by spooked horses and the horses of the other nobles who rushed to get away from the kill zone. The planes make a turn for a fourth pass, targeting large groups of soldiers or running cavalry with 28 .50 caliber guns between the two aircraft. One of the gunners cheered as they strafed the ground, “Get Some! I love these new Invaders!” As the Invaders turned for a fifth pass they lost visual of most of the infantry, occasionally seeing a few moving through the trees next to the road. “This is Rover-1, we’ve lost sight of the enemy. They appear to be heading in your direction quickly through the trees now.” Static. “Roger Rover-1, this is Yankee-1. We’ll be ready for ‘em.

Time: Ariel 53rd, 1447, 19:00. Location: Second Continent, Narnendia

The forest was full of chatter, American soldiers spoke of women, food, hunts, but most of all family, yet the lingering anxiety of the fight stayed near. Many soldiers were standing in their foxholes or smoking cigarettes in their machine gun pits as they chattered. One of the soldiers in their foxholes was on the lookout. Staring out past the open field in front of them to the other treeline, suddenly he drops his cigarette and yells, “FLAMES! I SEE TORCHES IN THE TREES!” With the sudden shout, all the soldiers put out their cigarettes and immediately stopped talking, all rushing to their foxholes and manning their positions. The major runs over to the signalman, unfolding a map as he marks coordinates. He takes the phone off the signalman’s radio pack and calls the artillery line about a mile or two behind them, “This is George-6 reporting hostile contacts across the field from us. Grid Coordinates are William, King, 6, 8, 3, 4, 9, 3. Requesting fire.” Static. “Roger, this is Able-3, coordinates are marked and firing for effect. Ranging shots will land shortly.” The major turns and yells, his words being echoed forward by NCOs, “FIRE! KEEP THEM PINNED! ARTILLERY IS INBOUND!” The entire front line opens fire, rifles cracking and machine guns rattling as hundreds upon thousands of bullets are fired toward the forest line. As soon as the first shots are fired, the torches on the opposite side go out, worrying some of the men about whether or not there was a large amount of troops there. A scream pierced through the evening sky as a bullet found its mark, envigoring the American troops to continue firing at the enemy. A shrill whistle could be heard overhead as three loud booms echoed and shook the earth, falling just in front of the opposite tree line. “This is George-6, your shots are short by 10 yards, push them further and spread them out a bit more.” Static. “Roger George-6, this is Able-3. Adjusting and firing now.” Another whistle could be heard as more rounds pound into the treeline, this time the artillery hits the treeline dead on, shrilling screams coming from the treeline. “Direct hit Able-3. Direct hit. Fire of effect.” Static. “Roger, firing for effect.” The whistles start again, this time even louder than before. Suddenly an earthshaking boom erupts as the ground feels as if it’s splitting apart and the soldiers are blinded momentarily by the flash of explosions. A pause of bullets before they start back up again, some still blinded and just firing in the direction of the enemy. Within minutes the entire tree line had been completely shelled to oblivion, with trees falling and fires starting. After another artillery barrage lands a loud whistle rings, “CHARGE! PUSH THEM OUT OF THIS LAND!”