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« on: October 12, 2017, 11:00:35 AM »
350 years ago today
It had taken quiet the march, four days it had taken the Highlanders, men who having done their duty to the Order of Mountjoy in their youth had retired to the peaks their people loved so much. They had spent their twilight years wandering the hills, tending their sheep and playing their pipes, but much had changed of late. The homeland of the order, what had once been a funnel for those from Albion and Ardia heading to the Holy Land had an enemy force loose, and they had trapped what remained of the Order's leadership in the Citadel of St.John. The Order was spread across Mundus, as it often was and no real standing army existed on home soil. The Latin and Nordic Brothers had been first to respond, the few Celts there had managed to get word out knowing that their Brothers in these peaks would never let them rot under siege. That was why now the band of 800 Highlanders, each dressed in the tartan of their clan, a reminder of their ancient family ties with lands such as Ui Cenneslaig. Each wore what protection they could but that had never been the Highland way, beside the siege lines were facing the citadel, not the countryside. The clans began gathering through the night and now as the sunrose over the horizon a morning mist hung on the ground, amongst them was Thane Murdo Lascelles, the only nobleman among the farmers and ex-soldiers. Word had come a week ago that his father had been killed during the "Purge" of the Order that had come without warning, he had been defending Pilgrims in the Holy Land when a fellow soldiers dagger had found its way between his ribs, one more member of the Mountjoy's killed because they had become a military threat.
Young Murdo had a horse, and it made him stand above the mist, behind him the various Highlanders began arranging themselves into a battle line, it had been hard sneaking to this farmhouse at the foot of the hill but now they readied themselves, long heavy swords were strapped to backs, dirks and targes, the ancient highland weapons made ready. A few men had heavy muskets but these men were now persuaded to leave them, this would be fast work and there was no time for such modern contraptions. "Sir, you should say a few words." A long grey haired veteran of many campaigns urged the young boy.
"But....I'm....its my first battle" the boy mumbled.
"Aye it is" the old man smiled, "But we all have to start somewhere, the men respected your father, he brought you up right. It's what they need." Murdo nodded reluctantly and reigned his horse round.
"Highlanders and brothers. Today the Order which we love changes, we break free from the control of those who have grown jealous of what we do, the glory which we gain. All we have to do is walk up a hill.......we're Highlanders, for us that is easy." the group cheered but Murdo raised a gloved hand. "The enemy don't know we're coming, this mist will cover our numbers and once we hit their lines they shall think the very gates of hell have opened and banshees assail them. We are now banshees, today we are God's avenging angels, we come to destroy those who stand against our work, against Gods work. I pray that St. Sebastian guides your arms as we free ourselves to once more carry the cross of God against those who bring tyranny, to carry the cross to bring aid to the weak and to show the world that all those who stand against Highlanders will not see another day." A loud cheer erupted and the line began beating weapons against each other or their small shields. "Pipers!" Murdo yelled felling the excitement rise. The twenty pipers they'd brought began playing, a shriek at first and then into a marching tune, the line moved forward without a word and began its march of the final mile through the mist.
The enemy heard the pipes, that was the idea, the sound of their deaths approaching unseen from the lowland. Some 4,000 men held the Citadel at siege and upon hearing the familiar sound the spirits of those inside lifted. "Get ready!" Knight Commander Ricardo Veresai yelled at the men who had spent the last month under siege. "The Highlanders! They're coming!" he hurried around the citadels artillery marked battlements rousing those inside, without a word from him a lone piper began playing, he turned to see that a young Highland Lancer had scrambled up to the top of the keep and their alone under the Order's banner was playing the same tune as that raising in the valley, a homing beacon to those approaching and a symbol of the citadels defiance. The besieged men heard it first, before they saw it, a terrifying scream that sounded chilling before just brief seconds later the sound of a musket shot and then steel on steel. "Rally! Rally!" Ricardo yelled as his men gathered in the courtyard, "We sally forth!" he exclaimed as he donned his own breastplate and picked up his sword. Seconds later the men we're ready and the gate opened, the 250 men of the Citadel charged the enemy to join their Highlander brothers in the fight.
The fight lasted several hours and throughout the piper on the citadel played. Murdo Lascelles horse was shot from under him and as the mist lifted just as the battle ended with the enemies surrender his men found him, a lifeless arm hanging at his side. They carried the boy inside the Citadel where surgeons removed the useless limb. That evening he begged to be allowed to die, "God has a plan for you boy. Today you lead our Order into nationhood, we have a new flag thanks to you" Ricardo held the boys hand as he talked, "the cross of our order on a field of red, your blood, next to it a field of orange, the courage and sacrifice you Highlanders showed the world. Beneath the cross two laurel's that symbolise our victory here today......your victory." Ricardo stood and withdrew his sword, Murdo hoped it was to end his life, after all how was a one handed man expected to become a soldier? "Today Murdo I grant you a Regiment, The Lascelles Highlanders, and I name you their Chief Knight, lead them well in the work of our Lord. I Knight you and remind you of your duty to God and your brothers" he tapped Murdo lightly on each shoulder. "So now you must live and lead your Regiment to glory."
Modern Day
Hugo Lascelles enjoyed this day, "The Day of the Charge" the day his beloved nation had come into existence, somehow it felt right that a Lascelles was the leader of the nation on its 350th birthday. He felt pride in his chest as he stood on the spot before a statue of the great Murdo Lascelles, leader of the charge, General of the Highlanders, the Wrath of God, he smiled at the thought of the 15 year old commanding such an insane charge, uphill, outnumbered, but it was amazing what you could do with God on your side. Behind the statue of Murdo stood 799 stone pillars, each waist high and each bearing the name of a Highlander and several covered in flowers and garlands. A large crowd had gathered as was customary on this day as the people of Mountjoy retraced the steps of those men.
Today was different, it was a beautiful crisp Autumn day, the ground was firm and while it was bright there was still the fientist chill in the air, it was what his grandmother would have called "a fine soft morning, good walking weather". While he had took part in this walk every year since his birth this was the first where he would lead the nation, and he hoped the world.
Unlike other years invites had been sent inviting the world to come and join in this celebration of their nations birth and the establishment of their own Orders independence. He was dressed in his own military uniform, slightly more snug now than in his time of service but a Highlanders non the less. He chatted with several serving members he recognised as he waited for the cars from the airport to arrive, maybe not the most glamorous of first meetings with a new nation, a muddy field, a stone statue and 799 stone pillars, but that didn't matter, the Highlanders were about to charge and that sight was one he wanted the world to witness.
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