Battle of North Walsham
The Battle of North Walsham is reaching its climax as the royal forces, led by Henry le Despenser, systematically crush the peasant revolt. The rebels, under Geoffrey Litster, are making a desperate l
Setting
A rural battlefield on the outskirts of North Walsham, with trampled wheat fields and scattered hedgerows providing limited cover. The ground is uneven, marked by furrows and the occasional tree stump.
Characters
Henry le Despenser
primary
A tall, imposing man in his late 50s with a broad, muscular frame built more like a warrior than a cleric. His face is weathered with deep-set, piercing eyes and a strong jawline, partially obscured by a neatly trimmed grey beard. His hands are calloused from years of wielding weapons as well as holding quills.
Geoffrey Litster
primary
A burly man in his late 30s, with a muscular build from years of labor as a dyer. His face is weathered and ruddy, with deep-set brown eyes and a thick, unkempt beard. His hands are stained with remnants of dye, and his forearms bear the scars of his trade.
Royal Knight
secondary
A heavily armored knight in his late 30s, with a muscular build honed by years of combat training. His face is weathered and bears the scars of previous battles, with a strong jawline and piercing eyes. His dark brown hair is cropped short beneath his helmet, and a thick beard covers his lower face.
Rebel Archer
secondary
A wiry man in his late twenties, with sun-browned skin and calloused hands from years of labor. His brown hair is matted with sweat and dust, and his sharp eyes constantly scan for threats. A deep scar runs along his left forearm, likely from an earlier skirmish.
Wounded Rebel
background
A young man in his late twenties, wiry and lean from years of labor, with sun-browned skin and calloused hands. His dark hair is matted with sweat and dirt, and his face is contorted in pain. A deep wound in his side stains his tunic with blood, and his breathing is ragged.
Dialog
Henry le Despenser
Filii Belial! In nomine Domini, we shall scour this field of their peasant filth! Archers, loose upon my command!
Geoffrey Litster
Hold the hedgerow, lads! For every one of us that falls, two of theirs shall follow!
Rebel Archer
Bishop's got 'is knights in harness, Geoff— can't pierce that with our arruhs! Aye?
Henry le Despenser
Vengeance is mine, saith the Lord! Ride them down! Spare none who bore arms against their lawful masters!
Geoffrey Litster
Then aim for the horses, damn you! A downed knight's just a man in a tin coffin!
Rebel Archer
Aye, but— Christ's bones! Their bowmen are nocking again!
Henry le Despenser
See how the wicked are made dust! Let this field testify to God's justice! Charge!