Unofficial Lore The Battle of Fort Manus

Please Note : This is an unofficial lore story, and is based off of the fact that here it says there was a war between Patraeia and Antea, and there so far is little official lore about the war. If this gets positive feedback I'll continue doing lore like this. Please report any grammatical errors, spelling errors, repeated phrases, etc. I want this to seem as if it were a real historic record,

The Battle of Fort Manus

In the early days of the Great War, thousands of Patraeian soldiers were sent to the Antean front. The first stronghold they encountered on their escapade was Fort Manus. This ancient Antean fort was built deep into a granite hill, and was attacked by swarms of Patraeian souls, all lustful for their first battle. This document will record the battle via multiple primary sources, donated to the publishers from various soldiers' and nurses' diaries, letters, and military and medical papers. Every resource will be translated for better understanding in today's language.




Hans Scheller - A basic grunt, assigned to guard the 189th Ballista Regiment, writing in his diary to describe the early stages of the three-week long battle.

Field Journal
Day 20
November 25, 181S

Today I was assigned to defend the 189th Ballista Regiment's siege weapons. We were positioned on a crest overlooking a valley, and across that valley laid the enemy's fort. The order was given, and the ballista quickly began firing our heated bolts. As I look around the valley, I could see nearly twenty or thirty other regiments, all firing white-hot spears the size of trees. The spears were trailed by the clouds of steam they created in the crisp November morn, and ignited the trees around their landing spots. We had dug fire lines in front of our positions, so the flames we created would stay in the valley, and on the trees above the enemy position.

By midday the entire valley and enemy hill was ablaze. A raging inferno was spread before us and the regiments had switched over to their heavier explosive bolts, which cleared the topsoil, exposing the brick and stone fortifications beneath.
By early afternoon it seemed like an easy victory was just upon us, but the fort finally lashed out. There was no where archers could've been positioned, nor could they've shot across an entire valley! The sky was darkened by the shadows of an uncountable number of arrows, each tipped with blades sharp enough to split tanned leather with ease. These hellborne weapons rained from the skies and pierced our very souls.

What could I do? The weapons advanced upon us, piercing our armour like simple cloth. The colonel's torso was torn to shreds! His blood was sprayed on the ballista and I watched another half of my brothers fall instantly to the sharpened rods. I felt a sudden warmth in my arm, and witnessed an arrow had already gone straight through my limb. I gasped - another! The second hit my hand and tore it straight off. I awoke in the hospital.

I fear the horrors of war are too great for the eyes of simple men such as myself. The mortal folly of this generation is our deep belief in the heroics of war. I believe much more can be achieved through simple civil conversation. This, however, is an impossible feat

~ End of Passage




Jack Red - A Patraeian strategist and battle planner. He is the top official for Patraeia's attack and defense maneuvers, and has the final say in every unit's on-field movements. This passage was from a letter he wrote to his daughter twelve days into the battle.

Dear Grace,

I have been deployed now for nearly a month and a half and I yearn for you and your mother's love. Our first attack was a rousing failure. Our ballistas were destroyed not even two days into the fight, for they enemy deployed weapons at such a force that even I could not predict. We have been locked into a stalemate ever since, with my forces bunkered down on the hillside, waiting for the fortress to show it's fatal Achilles Heel. Until then, we have no choice but to wait, with thousands of stone spheres being hurled at us on a daily basis, I may have to turn to drastic measures to ensure we capture this vital point on our route to the capital.

Sincerely, Your Father

Post Scriptum - Fear not for my own safety, for I am behind the initial ridge line, hidden from enemy bombardment. If my forces are to fall, it will hardly be to anything that could endanger myself. I wish you and your mother well.

~ End of Passage




Hillary Gard - A field medic for the 17th Infantry Regiment, in a medical report for an injured man on the front lines.

Physician Name and Title:
Hillary Gard, 17th Infantry Regiment General Medical Aide

Time and Date of Documentation:
13 December, 181 S at 13:37

Patient Status: Minor / Basic / Somewhat Serious / Serious / Extremely Serious / Fatal *Extremely Serious is Circled*

Patient Injuries and Symptoms:
Five arrows cut left leg, trebuchet shrapnel in right arm, head trauma, decent amount of blood loss

Patient Status at Time of Documentation:
Patient had shrapnel removed and cuts bandaged, head trauma to be assessed once patient regains consciousness.

Patient Location at Time of Documentation:
Field Hospital #2

Additional Physician Notes:
The cuts and internal damage caused by the shrapnel seriously inhibits the patient's abilities in combat. A higher authority must give the proper orders, however I strongly advise this patient be sent home due to the handicaps he now has. Furthermore, a huge influx of injured have been created on the front lines' bunkers and trenches, and I believe the front must be drawn back to a degree to keep out of range of being cannon fodder.

Physician Signature: Hillary Gard

~ End of Passage




Joseph Drake - The commander of a specialized scout unit that surveys the battlefield and terrain, providing vital feedback to the top officers about the frontier and enemy movements. This is the recording of what remains of his field journal. His unit was caught up in a deadly firestorm on the 28th of December, and these are his recordings up to that point. Any destoryed portions of the text will be shown via dashes ( - ) or simple annotations.

Field Journal
Day 53
December 28, 181S

It's been a week since we've headed out, and already my men are feeling weak. Those bastards have been merciless with their raiding and attacks. The ballista and trebuchet fire has been relentless, and we really need a breakthrough. I plan on heading out to the ba-
*The rest of the entry has been damaged beyond legibility*


Field Journal
Day 60
January 4, 182S

The new year has gone and passed, and we spent it getting shredded to pieces- *Half of the entry has been burnt away* -have caused a massive forest fire, and we're currently taking shelter in a small cave. There isn't much time before we must move again. Good thing I know of another cav- *The last word's ink has be smeared*


Field Journal
Day 62
January 66, 182S

The end is near for I. Here I sit, writing my last words of wisdom onto a paper which is bound to be burnt to oblivion. An arrow has pierced by left knee, and the blood loss has drained my body of its color. My only hope is-
*The last entry has had a significant part burnt out of it, with no other manuscripts remaining, we can only guess that the officer did not make it back alive*

~ End of Passage




Jakob Red - A basic grunt, assigned to the main attack force that would eventually rush the Antean fort, but ultimately be destroyed. This is his personal journal donated to us by The National Museum.

7 August, 184S

It's been four damned years fighting this war, and the men before me still haven't managed to take the fort we discovered at the very beginning. It's not like it's hard, is it? It's just a fort, and after these four years I've personally taken part in seventeen other raids that've successfully overtaken forts much larger than this! I count laziness as a factor. The chiefs just don't want to do anything that could lose men! We've got to make some sacrifices if we want to get anywhere in this siege.

P.S. - I take it back! The officers have declared a frontal assault tomorrow morn. This should be exciting.


2 October, 184S

I don't even understand what's going on. It's been over a month since I've last written, and the things I've seen should not be witnessed by anyone... I simply don't know how to explain it. Everything was going fine. We were at the doors, I was with the frontal assault party. The enemy melted from the walls and slaughtered my comrades. I was cut on my thigh. Not badly, but enough to fall. I suppose they thought I had died. After falling, the top of the fort detonated like nothing I've ever seen before. A massive beam of light shot from the crater and fell the valley. The light spread itself, and shot individually into the valley like streaks of lightening. It reached us, and the light hit many men. The people cooked before my eyes and I smelled rotten flesh. I cannot think of anything except this occurrence. I hardly remember anything after this, and I can only recall my first memory developing a week after this. It is witchcraft. Sorcery.

~ End of Passage

 

I'd usually post a image/gif to show my reaction, but I could find any that expressed my felling, and kind of scary (⊃д⊂)
Really cool story Keep making them!

 

Thankyou, @DDevil_ and @llyrios, I've edited new stories by the way, not sure if typewriters are a thing, but I sure hope so, because both use the typewriter has a roleplay tool.

 

Heuh, thanks, I'll be sure to make more edits. I realize you're no lore writer, but how about cannons? I wasn't sure, so I wanted to make my references to "thousands of stone spheres" vague. I'd imagine not, because I doubt gunpowder or anything like it is a thing yet, but could I have clarification?

 

I've finished the lore! I wanted to write more, but unfortunately I've hit the 10k character limit. Oh well, time to start a new story. Hope you all enjoyed.