English withdrawal from Haddington
Exhausted English troops, under pressure from advancing Scottish forces, execute a desperate retreat from Haddington, burning their remaining supplies to prevent them from falling into enemy hands. Th
Setting
The outskirts of Haddington, near the abandoned English garrison. The area is littered with smoldering supplies and debris from the retreat. The town's stone walls loom in the background, scarred by siege engines and cannon fire.
Characters
English Garrison Commander
primary
A middle-aged man with a gaunt face, sunken eyes, and a short, greying beard. His posture is slightly hunched from exhaustion, but his piercing blue eyes still command authority. A long scar runs from his left temple to his jawline, a testament to past battles.
Sergeant
secondary
A grizzled veteran in his late 40s, with a stocky, muscular build from years of military service. His face is weathered, with deep lines around his eyes and mouth, and a prominent scar running from his left temple to his jawline. His short-cropped hair is streaked with gray, and his beard is trimmed but unkempt from days in the field.
Wounded Soldier
secondary
A young English soldier in his early twenties, with a gaunt face and hollow eyes from exhaustion. His fair hair is matted with sweat and dirt, and a deep gash runs across his left cheek, still oozing blood. His right leg is bandaged haphazardly with a torn piece of cloth, stained dark with dried blood. His hands tremble slightly from pain and fatigue.
Scottish Scout
background
A wiry, sun-browned man in his late twenties with sharp features and keen, watchful eyes. His dark auburn hair is tied back with a leather thong, and a short, unkempt beard frames his face. His build is lean and muscular, accustomed to long treks and rough terrain.
Dialog
English Garrison Commander
Sergeant, form the rear guard and keep those lads moving! The Scots will be upon us before the hour is out.
Sergeant
Aye, sir! Lads, quick march—leave naught but ashes for those Scottish dogs!
English Garrison Commander
Sic transit gloria mundi... Burn what remains. We'll not gift them so much as a loaf.
Sergeant
The wounded lag behind, sir. Leave 'em or carry 'em?
English Garrison Commander
Carry them. We are not savages. But by Pluto’s beard, make haste!
Sergeant
Aye, sir! You heard the commander—move, damn you, move!
English Garrison Commander
The day is lost, but the war is not. Remember that, Sergeant.