
My newly finished Mud brick house was the key terrain of the hamlet of al-Hindar, with my Templar Warband facing off against Saracens under Alan’s command.
With the sun glinting brightly from his menacing two handed Sword, Serjeant Albrecht rushed to join the fray but was intercepted by a Saracen en route (actually the Serjeant failed the faith test for the charge and was then intercepted). They clashed blades briefly before the Albrecht struck him down and then moved to attack the Arif, the large blade slicing through the enemy commander’s armour to wound him. Taking advantage of this distraction, Brother d'Avesnes rallied, striking down his opponent and then turning to finish off the Arif with righteous fury. The remaining Saracen archer scuttled away rather than continue to face the wrath of the Templars.
Aftermath — The Martyrdom of Serjeant Michael
When the dust had settled and the cries of the wounded faded into stillness, the Templars turned to their dead. Among them, Serjeant Michael was found where he had fallen—his crossbow at his side, a Saracen shaft driven deep into his chest. The bolt that felled him had struck true, denying him even the chance to reload.
He had stood firm when it mattered most, buying precious seconds with his life so that his brothers might find cover and press the attack. His sacrifice had not been in vain—but it had been final. (he rolled a 1 on a d20 for effects of being Taken Down!)
Wulfred van Gistel knelt by the fallen serjeant, resting a mailed hand on his breastplate. No words were spoken—none were needed. The brothers formed a circle of prayer, dust clinging to their tabards, voices solemn in Latin.
“Grant unto him eternal rest, O Lord, and let perpetual light shine upon him.”
His remains were borne from the field with honour, wrapped in his banner, to be laid in sanctified earth. The Mud Brick House stood silent behind them—a place forever marked by both valor and sacrifice.