Post by cecil on Sept 17, 2006 0:30:24 GMT -8
"Charge!" Came the order from the mounted knight in front, his spear raised high in the air. The men behind shouted in a blood lusting roar as they started down the hill, weapons raised to the sky, prepped for battle.
I only remember one thought passing through my head as my blade ripped through the first man. "What in god's name am I doing here?" The battle around me gave no time to answer that question, measly split seconds to decide whether to defend or attack, one wrong decision would leave you bleeding on the ground, crying for you mother or mercy from god. The clang of metal against metal almost masked the cries of dieing men as cold steel cut through their soft, mortal flesh. That voice in the back shouting over and over in failing motivation. "Destroy them, my brothers! Slay the enemy!" It was almost like he was chanting on the enemy troops. Either way it was a chance of life and death. A throw of the dice in a charming game of craps; your life the chips. My hands moved in instinct, no real thought ever used as the blade span in my trained hands. I could feel the warm blood splatter across my face as my steel struck a man in the throat. A strong pull to the left to free my blade from it's human sheathe. Turning quickly, my eyes widened to the sight of a Hidlit Brigade Lieutenant clad in red armor and leather, long flowing blond hair with a scar down his right eye, sprinting toward me, fear and fury easily seen in his depth-less blue eyes.
I heard a familiar laugh before a large war hammer came crashing into the chest of the crazed warrior, enough force in the swing to send any man flying a good 10 yards back. "Ha! Jeremy! I've been searching for you!" Came a shout of actual happiness in all of this blood shed. I looked for the source of the hammer and actually found myself smiling at what I came to see. There in front of me stood a huge man. One that had been mistaken many a time to be a giant of some sort. Standing an easy seven foot four inches and weighing in at a heavy 368 pounds, stood the powerhouse of the Oasis Kingdom Armada. The men of our company often joked, giving him the nickname 'Tiny'. Though to me, he had always been Keltic Mulzion. The same Keltic, whom years before this war would play games with me and the other boys of our neighborhood. The same Keltic who had been my friend through thick and thin, even joining the military when he heard of my plans on becoming the greatest warrior the world had ever seen. Keltic had short black hair and well groomed goatee. He wore a mighty clad of Legionnaire armor, the colors of the kingdom, blue and white with the falling star emblem over the heart. He wore no helm, finding them uncomfortable when fighting, spar or otherwise. Usually sitting on a shoulder, though now gripped tightly in both hands, was his war hammer, Grieviance. A weapon given to him by his father years before his death from an illness that had swept the country side like a plague. The same color as his armor, the head white with two blue stripes around both ends; though now terribly stained with blood. On one end, were many jagged edges, sharp enough to puncture armor even without the force the behemoth swung the hammer with. On the opposite end it was flat, perfect for his brutal style of combat.
"Kelevra!" My nickname. A name given to me because how I fought on the battlefield. Kelevra, Bad Dog. "Chief wants you to pull back and help him flank around!" Keltic shouted.
I groaned at the thought of having to leave my men, but I couldn't disobey orders. The arrow that flew by my head told me to move now, because there was a good chance that second shot wouldn't miss. As I made my way to the back of the lines, cutting down, or shoving any enemy troops that stood in my way, I could hear the mix of laughter and battle cries of my friend as he started his onslaught. There wasn't a thing in this world that could bring that man down. "Kelevra! Hey, Jeremy!" I could see ahead of me a man in more imperial armor, much more decorated than the foot soldiers whom died behind me. "Captain Rendis is up ahead. Here I-" His words were cut off as he fell to the ground, an arrow pierced his throat. There was no time to put the soldier out of his misery. I swung my sword back. In a lucky swing I destroyed an incoming arrow as I continued my sprint up the hill. I could hear crackling behind me, drowning out the sounds of battle as it grew louder and louder. I dove to the left, rolling a little before pulling myself back to my feet and bolting off, looking back only long enough to see the ground that I once stood on was now scorched earth. Ahead of me I could see row upon row of archers, some fallen, though most moving mechanically as they fired, drew the next arrow, readied it on the string, pulled back, and released.
As I shoved through the lines I could see the Captain under an open tent, a table in front of him with countless maps laid about. He looked up as I slowed my pace and approached him. "Jeremy! I was hoping you were still alive. Come here and look at this!" He ordered lightly. I replied only by stepping forth and looking at the maps on the table, the largest catching my eye with it's multi colored thumbtacks marking specific areas over the area.
"I'm sure you heard from Keltic, I need you to go on a flanking run. He placed his finger by one of the tacks. "We are here. I need you to take the cavalry around the left flank and try to get around to their backside. From there we can wipe out those pesky archers as well as their command post." He said, tracing the route with his finger.
"Captain, we have a problem." I replied, thinking of the ball of fire that almost ended me earlier. "They have a mage. I was almost hit on my way here."
"A mage? Here? That's insane. The only time mages are around is when the armada is near...unless. " His eyes widened as he thought everything through. "My god! The whole Hindlit Armada is about to hit us! Jeremy, you must stall those troops until our reinforcements arrive!" He ordered, a finger pointing out toward the battlefield telling me to go now. Without a second thought I turned on my heels and walked out of the tent, raising an empty hand in the air and moving it clockwise in a small horizontal rotation. A group of knights stopped beside me, ten in all, one horse without a rider. I smirked as I climbed onto the mount and shot my hand straight at the battleground. In reaction to the signal, the knights took off, readying their lances as they raced down the hill. I was right behind them, my sword ready. As I ran through the first group of soldiers, I could hear bones break as the steed trampled over them. Ahead of me, in the air flew small black specks in the sky. I knew them for what they really were, and knew then what great trouble I was in. On the right side of the horse, hanging loosely, was a large metal shield. I was quick to grab and hoist the heavy hunk of steel over my head, making sure my grip was strong and awaiting what would happen next. I could hear the tinks and thuds of wood and steel slamming against the shield, each one numbing my arms as the metal shook. When I could feel no more, I launched the shield, out into the mass of people, hoping to strike at least one of the Hindlit troops. Taking my eyes off the flying shield, I looked in front, once more finding a large flaming ball flying straight at me. I dove quickly off my mount and into the mesh of people, pushing a large group of them to the ground as a whine was heard along with a stench of burning fur and skin. I dared not look at the corpse, afraid of what I may see. Afraid of what monstrous image followed that fowl smell.
I could feel men beneath me attempting to get back to their feet, grunting under the weight of the others along with all of the armor. I nimbly leaped off of the pile, drawing my blade from it's leather sheathe and twirling it once around, allowing my left to get a feel for it's steel. I shot back, swinging the hilt of my sword around as I turned. I could feel as the rounded end slammed into a helm, crashing through the thin iron and into the temple of a man. Friend or foe I do not know, and still don't to this day, never having enough time to examine the colors. I ripped the hilt from the bleeding skull, looking back and stabbing behind me into the side of a Hindlit. I pulled my sword from the dieing body, spinning around the body and catching it from behind before it fell to the ground. I took a moment to look through the spray of blood to examine my situation. I was surrounded. Only a few of the Oasis knights had made it in as deep as I had, that was if any still lived besides Keltic, whom I could still hear clearly as he swung his mighty hammer at the ants before him. I kicked the corpse forward into a group of approaching men before turning and sprinting off toward the Hindlit command post. Something had to be done to stop that mage before all of my men were killed. Thats when an idea struck. Looking at the corpses I ran past, one finally caught my eye. I dove into a slide, my right outstretched as it dug into the earth, slowing me to a halt by the body. Strapped to the arrow riddled body, were bombs. I grabbed two, sheathing my sword and pillaged the body for the sapper's flint rings, used by most to ignite a fuse with a simple snap. As I stood a spear wielding soldier charged. I almost froze there, watching him, millions of questions and answers racing through my head before a man's dieing cry shook me awake. Dropping one of the bombs and lowering a hand to my hip, my fingers wrapping tightly around my dagger as I pulled it free of it's sheathe. I moved on reaction, feeling the bomb being caught on my foot as the dagger left my hand, spinning. A small kick and the orange-sized bomb rested once again in my hand. My dagger now finding itself a new home in the throat of the spear-man. I continued my charge, lighting the fuse on both of the bombs, before throwing them into the rows of archers. As the bombs exploded I could see limbs fly, but more importantly, I watched as the men in front of me turned to the sight of the explosions. I sprinted faster, going as fast as my legs would allow me in my armor. A hidden blade on my gauntlet was triggered with the flick of a wrist, sliding up from the under my palm and locking. I felt my palm strike the chin one of the archers as the sharp blade on the gauntlet easily ran through the man's skull. Pulling toward my chest, I could feel the blade ripping out of the side of the man's head and returning to its sheath in the gauntlet, leaving only the blade on my right to protect me. The command post was in sight, only three guards, an officer and that god forsaken mage inside and around the tent.
The first three men went down with ease, the hidden blade making short work of them. I smirked as I darted forth, staying low until reaching the feet of the mage before shooting up like a rocket, the knuckles of my left gauntlet breaking the mage's jaw. As he rose into the air, the rubbing of metal on metal could be heard as the hidden blade shot out once again, appearing with enough force to pierce the mage's throat. He landed on the ground, standing up, trying to get around my body and clutch his punctured throat. A smile crossed my face as I twisted the blade vertically and ripped down before arching it out to the left. Blood covered my armor and face as I turned to the commander whom froze, struck with such fear that he couldn't move. I stepped forward, noting from the edges of my vision that a few men were approaching fast. Bolting forward, the Hindlit commander never even realized he was dead until he hit the ground with a hard thud. I licked my dry lips, trying only to wet them, but instead found myself tasting the blood of the men I had just killed. I spat, muttering the disgusting taste as my hidden blade once again slunk back inside of the gauntlet. As I looked up from the commander's body, I could see Oasis troops coming over the hill, the last of the Hindlit soldiers either dieing or retreating. One of the first over the hill was Keltic, a huge grin on his face as his war hammer sat comfortably on his right shoulder. I could hear the cheers of Oasis foot soldiers as they raised their weapons roaring with victory. It must have been then that I noticed the arrow rammed deep into my lower left side. I prayed it wouldn't be enough to kill me, but my fading vision and loss of energy told me that I was going to be out for a while. Managing to sit down on the table behind me, my vision vanished and I found myself in the land of dreams and nightmares.
(( This is mine after looking through the old story, revising it with Jaq's advice and after fixing a few errors....It's still crap but, eh, maybe it's a little better crap. Give me some Criticism on it. Note also >_> I forgot to add the detail more on the type of armor and such and I reeeeeally dont feel like going back into the thing right now. Other than that is should be fixed >_>))
I only remember one thought passing through my head as my blade ripped through the first man. "What in god's name am I doing here?" The battle around me gave no time to answer that question, measly split seconds to decide whether to defend or attack, one wrong decision would leave you bleeding on the ground, crying for you mother or mercy from god. The clang of metal against metal almost masked the cries of dieing men as cold steel cut through their soft, mortal flesh. That voice in the back shouting over and over in failing motivation. "Destroy them, my brothers! Slay the enemy!" It was almost like he was chanting on the enemy troops. Either way it was a chance of life and death. A throw of the dice in a charming game of craps; your life the chips. My hands moved in instinct, no real thought ever used as the blade span in my trained hands. I could feel the warm blood splatter across my face as my steel struck a man in the throat. A strong pull to the left to free my blade from it's human sheathe. Turning quickly, my eyes widened to the sight of a Hidlit Brigade Lieutenant clad in red armor and leather, long flowing blond hair with a scar down his right eye, sprinting toward me, fear and fury easily seen in his depth-less blue eyes.
I heard a familiar laugh before a large war hammer came crashing into the chest of the crazed warrior, enough force in the swing to send any man flying a good 10 yards back. "Ha! Jeremy! I've been searching for you!" Came a shout of actual happiness in all of this blood shed. I looked for the source of the hammer and actually found myself smiling at what I came to see. There in front of me stood a huge man. One that had been mistaken many a time to be a giant of some sort. Standing an easy seven foot four inches and weighing in at a heavy 368 pounds, stood the powerhouse of the Oasis Kingdom Armada. The men of our company often joked, giving him the nickname 'Tiny'. Though to me, he had always been Keltic Mulzion. The same Keltic, whom years before this war would play games with me and the other boys of our neighborhood. The same Keltic who had been my friend through thick and thin, even joining the military when he heard of my plans on becoming the greatest warrior the world had ever seen. Keltic had short black hair and well groomed goatee. He wore a mighty clad of Legionnaire armor, the colors of the kingdom, blue and white with the falling star emblem over the heart. He wore no helm, finding them uncomfortable when fighting, spar or otherwise. Usually sitting on a shoulder, though now gripped tightly in both hands, was his war hammer, Grieviance. A weapon given to him by his father years before his death from an illness that had swept the country side like a plague. The same color as his armor, the head white with two blue stripes around both ends; though now terribly stained with blood. On one end, were many jagged edges, sharp enough to puncture armor even without the force the behemoth swung the hammer with. On the opposite end it was flat, perfect for his brutal style of combat.
"Kelevra!" My nickname. A name given to me because how I fought on the battlefield. Kelevra, Bad Dog. "Chief wants you to pull back and help him flank around!" Keltic shouted.
I groaned at the thought of having to leave my men, but I couldn't disobey orders. The arrow that flew by my head told me to move now, because there was a good chance that second shot wouldn't miss. As I made my way to the back of the lines, cutting down, or shoving any enemy troops that stood in my way, I could hear the mix of laughter and battle cries of my friend as he started his onslaught. There wasn't a thing in this world that could bring that man down. "Kelevra! Hey, Jeremy!" I could see ahead of me a man in more imperial armor, much more decorated than the foot soldiers whom died behind me. "Captain Rendis is up ahead. Here I-" His words were cut off as he fell to the ground, an arrow pierced his throat. There was no time to put the soldier out of his misery. I swung my sword back. In a lucky swing I destroyed an incoming arrow as I continued my sprint up the hill. I could hear crackling behind me, drowning out the sounds of battle as it grew louder and louder. I dove to the left, rolling a little before pulling myself back to my feet and bolting off, looking back only long enough to see the ground that I once stood on was now scorched earth. Ahead of me I could see row upon row of archers, some fallen, though most moving mechanically as they fired, drew the next arrow, readied it on the string, pulled back, and released.
As I shoved through the lines I could see the Captain under an open tent, a table in front of him with countless maps laid about. He looked up as I slowed my pace and approached him. "Jeremy! I was hoping you were still alive. Come here and look at this!" He ordered lightly. I replied only by stepping forth and looking at the maps on the table, the largest catching my eye with it's multi colored thumbtacks marking specific areas over the area.
"I'm sure you heard from Keltic, I need you to go on a flanking run. He placed his finger by one of the tacks. "We are here. I need you to take the cavalry around the left flank and try to get around to their backside. From there we can wipe out those pesky archers as well as their command post." He said, tracing the route with his finger.
"Captain, we have a problem." I replied, thinking of the ball of fire that almost ended me earlier. "They have a mage. I was almost hit on my way here."
"A mage? Here? That's insane. The only time mages are around is when the armada is near...unless. " His eyes widened as he thought everything through. "My god! The whole Hindlit Armada is about to hit us! Jeremy, you must stall those troops until our reinforcements arrive!" He ordered, a finger pointing out toward the battlefield telling me to go now. Without a second thought I turned on my heels and walked out of the tent, raising an empty hand in the air and moving it clockwise in a small horizontal rotation. A group of knights stopped beside me, ten in all, one horse without a rider. I smirked as I climbed onto the mount and shot my hand straight at the battleground. In reaction to the signal, the knights took off, readying their lances as they raced down the hill. I was right behind them, my sword ready. As I ran through the first group of soldiers, I could hear bones break as the steed trampled over them. Ahead of me, in the air flew small black specks in the sky. I knew them for what they really were, and knew then what great trouble I was in. On the right side of the horse, hanging loosely, was a large metal shield. I was quick to grab and hoist the heavy hunk of steel over my head, making sure my grip was strong and awaiting what would happen next. I could hear the tinks and thuds of wood and steel slamming against the shield, each one numbing my arms as the metal shook. When I could feel no more, I launched the shield, out into the mass of people, hoping to strike at least one of the Hindlit troops. Taking my eyes off the flying shield, I looked in front, once more finding a large flaming ball flying straight at me. I dove quickly off my mount and into the mesh of people, pushing a large group of them to the ground as a whine was heard along with a stench of burning fur and skin. I dared not look at the corpse, afraid of what I may see. Afraid of what monstrous image followed that fowl smell.
I could feel men beneath me attempting to get back to their feet, grunting under the weight of the others along with all of the armor. I nimbly leaped off of the pile, drawing my blade from it's leather sheathe and twirling it once around, allowing my left to get a feel for it's steel. I shot back, swinging the hilt of my sword around as I turned. I could feel as the rounded end slammed into a helm, crashing through the thin iron and into the temple of a man. Friend or foe I do not know, and still don't to this day, never having enough time to examine the colors. I ripped the hilt from the bleeding skull, looking back and stabbing behind me into the side of a Hindlit. I pulled my sword from the dieing body, spinning around the body and catching it from behind before it fell to the ground. I took a moment to look through the spray of blood to examine my situation. I was surrounded. Only a few of the Oasis knights had made it in as deep as I had, that was if any still lived besides Keltic, whom I could still hear clearly as he swung his mighty hammer at the ants before him. I kicked the corpse forward into a group of approaching men before turning and sprinting off toward the Hindlit command post. Something had to be done to stop that mage before all of my men were killed. Thats when an idea struck. Looking at the corpses I ran past, one finally caught my eye. I dove into a slide, my right outstretched as it dug into the earth, slowing me to a halt by the body. Strapped to the arrow riddled body, were bombs. I grabbed two, sheathing my sword and pillaged the body for the sapper's flint rings, used by most to ignite a fuse with a simple snap. As I stood a spear wielding soldier charged. I almost froze there, watching him, millions of questions and answers racing through my head before a man's dieing cry shook me awake. Dropping one of the bombs and lowering a hand to my hip, my fingers wrapping tightly around my dagger as I pulled it free of it's sheathe. I moved on reaction, feeling the bomb being caught on my foot as the dagger left my hand, spinning. A small kick and the orange-sized bomb rested once again in my hand. My dagger now finding itself a new home in the throat of the spear-man. I continued my charge, lighting the fuse on both of the bombs, before throwing them into the rows of archers. As the bombs exploded I could see limbs fly, but more importantly, I watched as the men in front of me turned to the sight of the explosions. I sprinted faster, going as fast as my legs would allow me in my armor. A hidden blade on my gauntlet was triggered with the flick of a wrist, sliding up from the under my palm and locking. I felt my palm strike the chin one of the archers as the sharp blade on the gauntlet easily ran through the man's skull. Pulling toward my chest, I could feel the blade ripping out of the side of the man's head and returning to its sheath in the gauntlet, leaving only the blade on my right to protect me. The command post was in sight, only three guards, an officer and that god forsaken mage inside and around the tent.
The first three men went down with ease, the hidden blade making short work of them. I smirked as I darted forth, staying low until reaching the feet of the mage before shooting up like a rocket, the knuckles of my left gauntlet breaking the mage's jaw. As he rose into the air, the rubbing of metal on metal could be heard as the hidden blade shot out once again, appearing with enough force to pierce the mage's throat. He landed on the ground, standing up, trying to get around my body and clutch his punctured throat. A smile crossed my face as I twisted the blade vertically and ripped down before arching it out to the left. Blood covered my armor and face as I turned to the commander whom froze, struck with such fear that he couldn't move. I stepped forward, noting from the edges of my vision that a few men were approaching fast. Bolting forward, the Hindlit commander never even realized he was dead until he hit the ground with a hard thud. I licked my dry lips, trying only to wet them, but instead found myself tasting the blood of the men I had just killed. I spat, muttering the disgusting taste as my hidden blade once again slunk back inside of the gauntlet. As I looked up from the commander's body, I could see Oasis troops coming over the hill, the last of the Hindlit soldiers either dieing or retreating. One of the first over the hill was Keltic, a huge grin on his face as his war hammer sat comfortably on his right shoulder. I could hear the cheers of Oasis foot soldiers as they raised their weapons roaring with victory. It must have been then that I noticed the arrow rammed deep into my lower left side. I prayed it wouldn't be enough to kill me, but my fading vision and loss of energy told me that I was going to be out for a while. Managing to sit down on the table behind me, my vision vanished and I found myself in the land of dreams and nightmares.
(( This is mine after looking through the old story, revising it with Jaq's advice and after fixing a few errors....It's still crap but, eh, maybe it's a little better crap. Give me some Criticism on it. Note also >_> I forgot to add the detail more on the type of armor and such and I reeeeeally dont feel like going back into the thing right now. Other than that is should be fixed >_>))
