Crazy, crazy season, Buckeye faithful. Last night's game against the #9 Washington Huskies in the granddaddy of them all was, as pointed out by many after the game, a microcosm of this season: in turns exhilarating, frustrating, dominant, maddening, ultimately successful. Urban Meyer finished on a high enough note, and with that I have but one entry in his saga to pen. Don't despair, Urban Meyer's retirement may be the end of the Urban Meyer series of after-action-reports, but this series will be reborn anew next season with the Chronicles of Admiral Riyan Dae, commander of the Buckeye Armada (Barf, hate to ask more favors of you, but if you could make me a Ryan Day version of the Admiral Meyer shop you did a while back, that would be a godsend).

Anyway, until then, let's try to make it through the offseason! 

Day the Second of the First Moon, Two Thousand Ten and Nine

It is said that the day Lord Urban fell, great mountains of ice split asunder, fire oceans beneath the shell of the earth roiled, and the oldest trees in the inmost forests shuddered. That is all said, writ in the storied texts of yore, ink memories scrawled on the yellow'd parchment and vellum in dusty repositories. 

And yet it is not true. No man, no matter how estimable in deed or character, can make so much as the slightest impact upon the natural world. It is in the minds of people, in the thought and action of folk both ordinary and exceptional that such men as Lord Urban of Meyer make their mark. 

Though he fell from his steed in the battle against the Husky-Men of Washington, though his breast was pierced by a poison'd arrow and his life as commander was cut short, his valorous example would live on in the hearts of those he'd commanded. 

The origins of the battle with the Husky-Men came with in the wake of the victory over the Catmen of the Northwestern Reaches. Having achieved absolute triumph over their erstwhile foe, Lord Urban was content to rule over the now united realm of the Fourteen Kingdoms. That is, until a tragedy befell the land of Ohio. The once prized gardens of Columbus fell prey to a vicious parasite, a plague of insects that soon devoured the precious flowers the folk of Ohio were so proud of. 

Lord Urban, knowing well the concern his subjects had for their flowers, vowed to find a new stock to replace them, and to this end, turned his attention to the far west, where it was said a great bounty of roses grew, redder than blood and almost as precious, perfectly shaped, full of petal, crisp of stem, and sharp of thorn. 

With his trusted generals, including Lord Ryan of Day, at his side, Lord Meyer did ride out with an army, direction: the fabled summerlands of Pasaden. It was a long journey, and arduous too, for along the way they passed through truly ghastly climes and regions devoid of able recruits such as the hoglands of Ar-Kan-Sas and the talent-desert of Kan-Sas. But eventually they did arrive in the sunny land of Pasaden, where a forest of roses grew. 

But they were not the first to find this forest of flowers. The Husky-Men were there already: a horde of mangy beastmen, furred to survive the harsher winters of the far north and the eternal rains of Cascadia. Their leader was a savage and wily chieftian whose fame was known even in the land of Ohio: Paetersahn. 

Paetersahn did howl a challenge to the men of Ohio, one Lord Urban of Meyer was loath to spurn. Hoisting shields, mounting steeds, and lifting lance and sword, the knights of Ohio prepared to do battle under Lord Urban for one final tilt. 

At the advent, the battle was a cagey one, neither side willing to commit too many forces to the fray, neither willing to show their weak flanks or expose themselves to counterattack. And so it was that the armies traded glancing blows, a salvo of arrows, a quick cavalry raid, an abortive charge of pikemen, a quick smattering of catapult stones. 

But in this opening stanza, Lord Urban did perceive frailties in the opposing lines, and drafted quick orders to take advantage. Sir Haskins of the Strong Arm, together with Sirs Campbell and Weber, led a gallant charge of heavy horse against the Husky-Men's weaker left flank, which was defended not by heavy pikemen but auxilliaries armed with flimsy spears. The charge broke the Husky-Men ranks, allowing the army of Ohio to close down upon them. Were it not for the quick response of Paetersahn and his honor guard, a rout may have been on. As it was, the Husky-Men retreated from their position upon the hill and into the flower'd woods with the bulk of their forces intact. 

Lord Urban's men did cheer, but he could ill-afford celebration when the foe was still very much alive. He gave quick orders to drive into the forest and root out the Husky-Men once and for all. These orders would prove catastrophic, not only for many of his men, but for Lord Urban himself. 

At first, the pursuit was successful. Many Husky-Men were charged down, cut to ribbons or skewered on lances. Many more were captured and dragged out of the forest into the light where they would be corralled into holding pens. But deeper into the forest, the Husky-Men and their leader Paetersahn had prepared a devastating response. It started with a hail of slingstones coming from every direction. Sir Fuller was struck by one such stone and fell from his horse, henceforth not to contribute to the battle. More stones followed, raining upon the men of Ohio, soon joined by arrows and javelins. A bloodcurdling howl rose up from the forest of roses, and the hordes of Husky-Men fell upon the bloody'd and disorient'd men of Ohio. 

Were it not for the valor and strength of Sirs Chase, White, and Okudah, the battle may have been lost. But these knights made their stand and served as example to their brothers, and so the knights of Ohio fought back their enemy's desperate assault. Lord Ryan of Day, sword in hand, led the final counter-charge that broke the Husky-Men once and for all, capturing Paetersahn and his many wives and pups. But lost in the glory of the moment was a single arrow, fir'd by an anonymous archer on his back foot, which found the crevice between two plates of armor, and from there, between two ribs. It missed Lord Urban's heart, it's true, but by dint of its poison the wound could not be anything but fatal. 

Lord Urban fell from his horse, attended by bannermen and camp followers, and perish'd with his Lady Love Shelley's name on his lips. It was not until Lord Ryan of Day returned to camp, a train of prisoners marching behind him, that he learned he had become the new Lord Protector of Ohio and Columbus. 

So it was that the end of one great saga was only the beginning of another.