The sound of battle filled the air. Arrows flew in volleys, darkening the sky as they sped whistling toward their targets. Flames sprouted from the craters formed by catapult rounds, blanketing the battlefield with acrid black smoke that brought tears to the eyes of the soldiers. The corpses of the dead already numbered high; many were from a previous battle fought at the same place a month earlier.
   "Tania!!!" A heavily armored warrior cried, rallying his men under a royal blue banner positioned on a small hill near the center of the battlefield. Soldiers flocked to the hill, eager to defend the Golden Gryphon. For such was the name of the warrior, and he was the pride of Tania's military. His golden armor shone in the sunlight, making him a beacon of light on the battlefield. One soldier, dressed in a blue tabard and wearing the gold scarf symbolic of Tania's elite, made his way to the Gryphon's side.
   "The battle goes ill m'lord. The Red Roses have broken through our main line, with Kendrick at their head. It's only a matter of time before our men rout."
   The Golden Gryphon cast a steely gaze over the battle below through the slit in his helmet. "I shall meet Kendrick in battle. I have but to slay him, and their forces will flee like the dogs they are. Curse the Roses!" He cried, raising his mace into the air. The soldiers around him took heart, shouting out the cry with their leader.
    "Curse the Roses!"
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   The battle carried on, those involved unaware of the presence of a third army in the forest nearby. A grizzled, scarred elf looked out, awaiting the order.
   "Kendrick will surely need us soon," a young elf said hopefully, eager to prove himself.
   "He shall, but you know not what you wish for Yar'yn," the grizzled elf said quietly. "War is a terrible thing. Something that I wish you would not have to experience, ever."
   "Aye, he's right," said Ro'kas, a dark furred Satyr who was crouched nearby. "Be glad you aren't out there now."
   "Look!" An elf named Sa'ru said. "The pe'sarras are losing already, Kendrick may not even call for our aid."
   "Why do we fight for the Roses anyway?" Yar'yn asked.
   "Because they're fighting to free themselves from Tania. If they succeed, we too will be free." Ro'kas explained. "King Anthost is a good King, but the lords keep him from focusing on matters with the non-humans. They wish to keep power over us."
   "Then why are we fighting Anthost's armies?" Yar'yn persisted.
   "He sent them to support Lord Regas."
   "Won! Curse the pe'sarras!"
   "Aye, curse him and all House Regas."
   "Silence! There's the signal! We're needed!" Sa'ru whispered hoarsely.
   "This is it. May Marivor watch over us."
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   "Shields up!" The Gryphon shouted. Just in time, for at that moment a volley of arrows peppered the advancing force, momentarily halting them. As soon as the volley let up, the Gryphon led his men in a charge headlong toward the Roses.
   With a clash of steel they collided, the force of the Tanian's advance driving the Roses back. At that moment a shout of challenge rose into the air.
   "The Golden Gryphon himself! I remember when last we met, at the tourney in Blackborough! I gave you a good thrashing then!" The knight who the voice belonged to emerged from the sea of red armored soldiers, towering a full head above any of them. His armor was black as night, and covered in blood. Horns like those of a devil protruded from his helmet, making him seem even taller and more menacing.
   "Sir Kendrick! I might've known you'd be leading this rabble. You've always been Falsevor's lapdog, now you even follow him into open rebellion against our good King!" The Golden Gryphon gripped his mace, ready to fight.
Kendrick shrugged. "What can I say? I'm a Blackborn! The king has no right to the throne, it belongs to us!" He let out a roar and rushed at the Gryphon, sword raised. The Gryphon raised his shield in defense, blocking the blow and swinging his mace in deadly counterattack. Kendrick raised his own shield, which was adorned with the Red Roses of House Falsevor. He then began a series of attacks that put the Gryphon in retreat. The Tanian soldiers made way, clearing a sizeable area for the duel. The Roses had ceased fighting as well, and all were watching with bated breath to see whose champion would prevail.
For a time it seemed as though Kendrick had the clear advantage, for his quick, powerful attacks kept the Gryphon on the defense constantly. But suddenly, the Gryphon saw a slight opening, a minuscule weakness in the way Kendrick held his shield, that allowed him to strike. He brought his mace down upon Kendrick's undefended shoulder, causing him to buckle to his knees and clasp his shoulder in pain. Being the strong warrior he was, he attempted to hide his pain and stood back up, ready once more to fight. Blood spilled freely through the cracks in his shoulder plate, but he ignored it.
"A little different from the tourneys, isn't it?" The Gryphon retorted, clenching his teeth in anger.
"Shut up and fight!" Kendrick cried, charging the golden armored knight and nearly knocking him over with an overhead blow. He repeatedly attacked, filled with fury and using his pain to fuel it further. One of his swings managed to make contact with the Gryphon's arm, causing dark blood to stain his bright armor. But he barely seemed to notice, for the adrenaline was coursing through him, strengthening him. He endured more of Kendrick's strikes, waiting for the dark armored knight to run out of energy. It took several moments, but Kendrick's swings eventually began to be inaccurate and weaker, one of them missing completely.
The Gryphon struck like an adder, swinging with lightning fast speed right at Kendrick's head. The force of the blow was so strong that as soon as it made contact, a wet crack could be heard as Kendrick's neck broke. The knight's helmet, along with his head, sailed into the sky, a trail of blood following it. The lifeless body fell to the ground with a heavy thud.
"Tania! Tania! Tania!" The Tanian soldiers cried as the Gryphon raised his mace in victory. The Rose's soldiers looked in horror at their leader's body for a moment, registering what had happened.
"I'm getting out of here!" One of them cried, turning and fleeing from the site. The rest soon followed, but the Gryphon would see no survivors.
"Give them a volley!" He shouted. Arrows danced from the Tanian archer's bows, and one by one the fleeing Rose soldiers fell to the ground with cries of agony.
The Tanians cheered, victory seemingly assured.
But there would be no victory for them.
For at that moment, a volley of arrows came from the forest, thick as a swarm of locusts.
The Gryphon didn't even have time to order his men to raise their shields, as the attack was completely unexpected.
   The arrows whooshed down upon them, and soon cries of fear, pain, and pure agony were all that could be heard.
They were all cut down by the arrows, down to the last man. Not even the Gryphon, who was a veteran of countless battles and a legendary warrior, survived.
The battlefield was left as it was, but crows and scavengers soon descended upon the corpses, leaving nothing but a memory.
War never changes. The dead may bear the Tanian Lion or the Red Roses on their shield, but there is never victory for either side. The leaders who took no part in the battle may claim victory, but all of the soldiers lose, even those on the winning side. For they have to live with the horrors of war.
But none in the Battle of Bierfort Hill lived to experience this. They never returned to their families, who were anxiously awaiting them, nor did they go back to their old lives. They all fell on a field of Roses.

Hey everyone! I decided to write this to see if anyone was interested in an original fantasy series! I won't be writing it until I'm done with the Middle Earth Stories series, but I wanted to gauge interest and see if anyone would read it. This short story doesn't contain any characters from it, but it's just a very brief glimpse into the world of the series. Let me know what you think!

pe'sarras: Outlander in Old Saryian

Won: An exclamation of surprise, usually in anger; Old Saryian