/lit/ - Literature

Be honest folks is it shit?

The Crown of Colour
The Sun rose bright and constant in the east. The field was a deep emerald green, lined on each side by sharp slate grey walls of the valley in which it lay. Rain from the previous night had settled as mist at the roof of the crevice and hung like a waterfall not yet ready to move on the cliff edges above them.
The ground resembled more a thick sludge than earth and the horses struggled as the legion crept forward into the clearing. Monas looked uneasily towards Rex who rode ahead of the army, his horse seemingly oblivious to the state of the soil. Helmet tied to his saddle bag, the morning sunshine dancing across the golden rim of his deep blue chest plate and making his hair glow and hang, an inverted halo of the morning dawn. In the distance the red flags of Crator’s battalion grew larger, they too, on their own struggle through the field towards them.
When the Redgari army was close enough to see, and unfortunately smell, they were not led from the front by Crator. They formed a large tight rectangle, their red and black armors striking together in a random percussion. The armies continued their march, neither letting up. Rex grinned, smiling at the wall of men approaching knowing that this game of chicken was nothing but showmanship for the coming dance. Rex stretched out his right arm to signal a halt, in unison both groups came to a stop. The sound of both armies coming to a halt echoed up, around, and through the valley.