I received a near-mortal wound at the Tower of the Avenger. I have little strength at present to write, so leave the deeds of our Order's common yeomen to speak for themselves. Our knights reaped a tally of horrors and abominations that would not have shamed the greatest hero of the Brotherhood, and yet our sacrifice would have been for naught had the common infantry under Sergeant Mauriac not arrived when they did. The peasant soldiery fought like men possessed, and held the field against all expectations. The most unlikely of victories won by the most unlikely of heroes.
The burns I suffered from hellfire-spitting aberrations leave me slipping between unconsciousness and reality, yet I wish it to be known that the yeomen of our Order have forever earned a place of honour amongst all our brotherhood for fighting with the courage of lions on this day. Their valour turned almost certain defeat into victory. In their debt do I place myself and swear to hold them as brothers for the rest of my days.
The Order remnants move around the flank of the Tower of the Avenger, seeking to catch the Abyssal beasts lurking in the forests and destroy them.
A forlorn hope of yeoman cavalry charge into the forests to flush out the Abyssal horrors. Meanwhile, the remnants of the Order Knights under Knight-Captain Tyr move to encircle their prey.
The Brotherhood's yeomanry hold the right flank to buy time for the Order's knights on the left, knowing full well that they face certain death at the hands of the beasts emerging from the forest.
Chaos on the left flank. The Abyssal forces take the bait, and as the yeomen cavalry are slaughtered the Knights slam into the Abyssals. However, for every Abyssal hewn in two, greater and more savage abominations rise to take its place; one by one the Knights are torn apart and dismembered by more of the horrors emerging to outflank them.
The last of the Knights is slain, ripped from his mount by a fanged horror, and with Knight-Captain Tyr amongst the fallen the day appears lost. And yet the Order's infantry, yeomen and villeins from the fields, hold fast beyond all expectations. Facing certain death, the yeomen press into the Abyssals. Arrowfire from the right flank falls like a rainstorm on the foe and the greatest of the Abyssal beasts are brought low by Brotherhood archers. A ragged cheer erupts from the survivors on the right flank as the Abyssal fiends start to falter.
As rays of sun begin to filter through the ash-choked sky, the remnants of the Abyssal horde begin to fade back into the forests, howling defiance at the exhausted Brotherhood defenders clustering around the Tower of the Avenger. The overfiend of the horde, a winged beast in the aspect of a gigantic aquiline predator, melts into the shadows, as if conceding the field to the Brotherhood. The wearied defenders, against all hope and expectation, have beaten back the horde of the Abyss and bought a precious respite for the southern lands. Amidst the carnage and shattered debris of the battlefield, a handful of the Order's knights are found horrifically wounded but still alive; bearing their wounded, the Order's yeomen sergeants grimly give the order to retreat, knowing full well that the Abyss will pursue them in the days and weeks to come.